


Snapshots

by Jaye_Voy



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Adult Content, Angst, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-23
Updated: 2016-04-23
Packaged: 2018-06-04 02:22:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 28,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6637168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jaye_Voy/pseuds/Jaye_Voy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scenes from two lives coming together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. Set before and during the first "Star Trek" reboot film.
> 
> 2\. Read ["The Last Good-bye"](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6574597) for McCoy's backstory. (Summary: Three-year-old Joanna died in a crash a few weeks after McCoy helped his father commit suicide. During marriage counseling, Jocelyn reveals that she blames McCoy for their daughter's death. He snaps and attacks her. Lamont Rhys, a family lawyer who was a friend of McCoy's father, cuts a deal where charges are dropped if McCoy serves five years of "community service" in Starfleet.) 
> 
> 3\. The events of Pike and crew depicted in the original Star Trek pilot ("The Cage," seen in the ST: TOS episode "The Menagerie") took place while Pike was captain on a ship called the Fortitude rather than the Enterprise.
> 
> 4\. I didn't see anything in the official Star Trek stuff that said Pike was Commandant of Cadets (it looks like that might be Barnett's job). I'm assuming that Pike has a temporary professorship and is overseeing the Enterprise's construction---along with doing a little recruiting on the side.
> 
> 5\. Originally written in 2013. Although there are some tweaks, the story's contents (and its flaws) are mostly intact. Star Trek and all related characters and concepts are the property of Paramount et al. No infringement is intended or profit made. This is rated NC-17 for adult themes, sex, and language.
> 
> GUEST CAST  
> Chantelle (The bartender)  
> Dr. Phyllis Boyce  
> Lt. Commander Selena Montan (Phyll's wife)  
> Dr. Chen Hansheng (Leonard's therapist)  
> Captain Brynn Daniels (Chris's former First Officer aka Number One)  
> Lamont Rhys (Leonard's family friend)  
> Nurse Christine Chapel

Late spring, end of McCoy's second year at Starfleet Academy...

Chris slid onto the barstool in a whisper of cloth on leather. His feet automatically found purchase on the brass rail as he settled his forearms on the gleaming oak of the bar. "Nice place, McCoy."

And it was, the pub's etched mirrors and stained-glass lampshades evoking a bygone era. The low hum of conversation and a blues instrumental in the background were worlds away from the thumping bump and grind of the hotspot Cadet McCoy had started the evening in.

He could hear the mental gears turning as McCoy flicked a glance his way, strong fingers stroking the square-cut shot glass before him. "'Evening, sir."

Any number of speculations might be zipping through the good doctor's brain. After all, the two of them had never shared more than the glance and nod of two people passing each other on the way elsewhere.

But Chris had to admit that McCoy could turn heads---and that he'd piqued Chris's own interest. The man possessed a maturity still lacking in most other second-year cadets. And from what Chris heard from his colleagues, a sharp mind and desert-dry sense of humor lay behind that brooding, hazel-green gaze.

A drift of jasmine heralded the arrival of the bartender. Lush curves clad in burgundy velvet belied the wrinkles in cocoa skin and the gray streaking the woman's temples. Her dark eyes swept the scene as she arched an eyebrow at Chris.

"I'll have what he's having." His own brows rose in surprise as he read the label of the bottle the bartender brought over with a fresh glass. She scanned and returned his credit chip before pouring two fingers of amber liquid. She offered a sly grin with her departure.

Chris lifted the liquor to his lips, the first sip sliding smooth. He set down his drink and swiveled on the stool to face McCoy. "If this is your regular, you must pick up a lot of extra shifts at the Academy hospital."

A dimple flashed as McCoy lifted his drink for an ostentatious sip. "Mine's on the house."

"And just how exactly did you---never mind." Chris agreed that a glass of top-drawer whiskey was a fair price to have McCoy decorating the premises for an hour or two. Chris further settled himself on the stool, getting comfortable. Which didn't usually happen when Chris ran across a cadet, even if they were both off duty.

McCoy swiveled to face Chris. Muscular, jean-clad thighs drew Chris's attention for a moment before he focused on McCoy's drawl. "Our lovely hostess, Madame Chantelle, owns several venues in the area---including the one your junior agents tracked Jim to this evening. The lady knows about my...peacekeeping efforts at those venues and wanted to express her appreciation."

Chris ruthlessly suppressed a grin. From the reports he'd been reading, not everybody was so appreciative of McCoy's efforts---or powers of observation. "So the new team got busted, huh?"

"Not by me---I figured if Jim was busy hittin' on the undercover cops, he wasn't likely to get smashed around by a jealous boyfriend." McCoy's half-smile shifted to a smirk. "Your folks are lookin' a mite less regulation these days."

Chris snorted. That was an understatement. After the brawl that brought Jim Kirk to Starfleet, Chris implemented a new program at the Academy. Security cadets were randomly assigned "covert operations" out on the town---blending in and using subtle means to head off trouble. For some redshirts, it was the first time they had to deal with a situation *without* being able to pound the snot out of their opponents. Or whip out their phasers and haul folks off to the brig. 

The Introduction to Diplomacy lectures were always well attended.

He tried not to watch too closely as McCoy stretched an arm to reclaim his drink, bicep stretching then straining at the seam of an old-fashioned button-down shirt. The pine green of the turned-up cuff made a sharp contrast to the pale skin of McCoy's inner arm.

Chris swallowed as he watched McCoy's Adam's apple bob. He cleared his own throat. "It'd be nice if you let the kids handle Jim---or at least let them try to."

McCoy turned back to face the bar. "Didn't ride herd on the brat the first few weeks here. Got tired of the 3a.m. comms to bail him out or patch him up."

Chris hmphed an acknowledgement and took a sip of his whiskey, swipe of tongue chasing the taste across his lips. He couldn't deny that Jim Kirk's demerit acquisition rate dropped after McCoy stepped in. Without the doctor's intervention, George Kirk's son would likely have been bounced out of the Academy on his disrespectful ear halfway through the first semester. Instead, Jim had actually made it through two years relatively intact.

Still... "He's gotta stand on his own sometime---or fall and take the hard landing he's earned."

"I know, it's just..." McCoy straightened on his stool turned his head to meet Chris's eyes. "Are you orderin' me to stand down, sir?"

"No, I wouldn't do that. I'm simply asking you to think about it." Chris slipped off the stool, lifting a foot to rest on the rail as he propped himself on one elbow.

Had to resist the urge to lean in and chase the faint whiff of juniper that was probably McCoy's shampoo. "I actually came here to talk about you."

McCoy's brows startled upward, then settled into a wary frown. "Me? 'bout what?"

"Barnett's denied your application to use sims for any more courses. Real flight-mission training begins next semester." Chris watched the skin of McCoy's cheekbones and jaw tighten as long fingers clenched around the shot glass. "How's the aviaphobia?"

A grunt was McCoy's only reply as he turned back to his drink.

Chris nodded to himself. "I know the conditions of your enlistment. I'm here to offer you a choice."

McCoy looked over. "What, shape up or get shipped off to prison to finish out my sentence?"

"Of course not." Chris took a sip of his drink as he eyed McCoy. The doctor's rounded cheekbones and pointed chin gave his face a somewhat feline cast---and the tensed back and slitted eyes suddenly reminded Chris of one cat in particular.

Most of the Chris's first summer with his grandparents was spent in a kid-to-cat staring contest. A tuxedo tom perched high on the china cabinet, always crouched to strike. Gran told him the cat had been "batted around by life a bit" and would take a while to decide if Chris was worthy of trust.

It took a solid three months for the cat to let him close. He hoped McCoy would be more willing to take a chance on an unknown. "From what I've been told, you're a fine healer, McCoy---physician, surgeon, researcher. Starfleet doesn't waste that kind of talent."

Chris shrugged. "If you truly don't feel able to go into space, then you'll get a permanent assignment on Earth. Maybe working at the Academy hospital and on call for surgery at the other facilities in the area."

McCoy's breath came out in a rush. "You'd ground me?"

"If that's what it takes." Chris didn't reach out, but his fingertips itched to touch McCoy's wrist, to draw his attention to other possibilities. "But..."

"But?" McCoy straightened, wariness transmitted in the line of his shoulders and tilt of his head. His eyes narrowed again.

Chris leaned in. "But we *need* people like you in the black, McCoy. On a starship, there aren't other surgeons or researchers to call in---the med staff you ship out with are all you've got. Those doctors and nurses hold the crew's lives in their hands. Those crews deserve the best. And that's you."

He took a breath. "Look, you have this fear and it's real, but the question is whether you're willing to face it or if you're going to hide away from it. We have three months before the new semester begins. If you're willing, I'd like to help you work through your aviaphobia."

This time, Chris did reach out, gripping McCoy's shoulder. "Please, consider it."

Chris held still, watched unknown emotions rise and pass over McCoy's face as the man got lost in his own thoughts. With a deep breath, McCoy's eyes lifted to his.

"Ah hell, it's not like I have other plans. And I'd be a chicken shit if I didn't at least try." McCoy didn't shift from under Chris's touch as he lifted his glass. "Let's give it a shot."

Chris couldn't help smiling as they clinked glasses.

He regretted the loss of warmth as he lifted his hand from McCoy's shoulder to reclaim his seat.


	2. Chapter 2

Three weeks later...

Leonard tapped his fingers on the armrest. Bounced his knees. Shifted his butt, his back, his head against the seat. Studiously kept his eyes from the gray-walled hangar visible through the transparent whatever that made up far too much of the cockpit of the shuttle. "We just gonna sit here?"

"For now." A glance at Pike's profile revealed nothing. The captain's strong fingers splayed over the fine, dark material of his uniform trousers, going nowhere near the controls.

Pike's head turned, the light and shadow throwing the angles of his face in sharp relief. Slate-blue eyes dipped to regard Leonard's restless hands, then rose to meet Leonard's gaze. No censure or amusement. Or pity---Leonard had very clear memories of exactly what that looked like, even cloaked in good intentions. Leonard grunted and made an attempt to still his fidgeting.

Didn't help the race of his heart or breath. Or the sweat he could feel beading along his hairline. "Seriously, we're just gonna sit here? *Again*?" Leonard thought the waiting might just kill him before the flight could.

Of course, he'd thought that every day for the last 21. They came to the shuttle and sat for however long Pike decided to torture him. Then they'd exit and go their separate ways until the next session.

Pike tilted his head. "Ready to level down?"

More than. Leonard nodded, took a deep breath. Closed his eyes. "Start at 8."

"OK." Could hear the surprise in Pike's response before Pike began talking Leonard through his calming routine, down from 7 through 5 through 3 to 2. They never went lower than that---neither of them held any illusions that Leonard was gonna be "comfortable" in a shuttle.

When Pike's voice trailed off, Leonard opened his eyes and looked through the expanse of death-in-the-making known as the shuttle's windows. Or viewports or whatever the official manual called them. Engineers went about their business, cadets and officers who were still on duty over the summer break strolled past on their way elsewhere.

The view was becoming familiar---as was the man beside him. Conversations this last week ranged across a variety of topics as Leonard discovered some shared interests with the captain beyond high-class hooch.

Pike stretched his arms above his head. Leonard couldn't help focusing on the way the tailored tunic shifted over Pike's lean frame. Ordered himself to ignore the view. Noticing that kind of thing was a bad sign. A very bad sign.

Pike lowered his arms and glanced over, a slight smile crinkling the corners of his eyes. "Seems like it's a little better---you didn't take so long calming down. And starting at 8 is a real improvement."

"Yeah." Leonard leaned back, feeling drained. "At this rate, I'll be ready for space a few months after I graduate."

"You're not that bad." Pike shifted in his seat to face him. "McCoy, you can do this---you have done this. When you need to, you get on the ship or the shuttle and get where you need to go. All we're trying to do right now is make sure you don't give yourself a coronary before you even leave the ground."

Pike was kind enough not to add "or need to self-medicate to a near stupor".

McCoy scrubbed his hands through his hair. "I know this is stupid---"

"No---no, it's not. It's perfectly understandable, given your circumstances..." Pike paused, a frown forming. "Have you talked to anybody about it?"

The question tensed up Leonard's body all over again. He muttered the calming phrases he was trying to incorporate into his automatic stress response before his heart rate skyrocketed. Of course he'd known Pike would ask, but that didn't make remembering any easier. "Yeah, some, but..."

He blinked back tears as his throat clogged. His fingers clenched. More than two years, and still he hadn't passed a day without missing Joanna. And his father---all the kin he'd lost. But it wasn't the gut-shot of grief anymore. More like an old wound scabbed over, sorrow dull and aching. Still caught him by surprise, sometimes.

Pike's warm hand settled on Leonard's fist. "Easy. I was just asking. I thought maybe Jim---"

Leonard's laugh was more of a choke. "Nah, uh---Jim's not what you'd call the confiding type."

Or the type to be confided in. If anything, Leonard got the impression that Jim didn't want to acknowledge pretty much anything that came before that trip on the shuttle from Riverside. Like Jim'd stepped into the Academy and been born into a new life.

It was only Leonard who carried the bones of his dead.

He took a deep breath, let his hand relax under the weight of Pike's. "I see a therapist in town---he's the one who sent me the vids on the level-down technique. Been goin' off and on since I got here. It helps, a bit."

That had been Lamont's doing. The elderly lawyer'd sent the address of a Starfleet-vetted counselor within walking distance of the Academy---along with the day and time of Leonard's first appointment and a "You're not goin' to disappoint an old man, Leonard, are you?" guilt trip of a note to nudge Leonard on his way.

Pike smiled and squeezed Leonard's fingers briefly before letting go. "Glad to hear it---but the offer's open, if you think it would do some good."

Strange thing was, Leonard could see himself taking Pike up on it. A lot sooner than it'd taken to open up to the counselor. It felt like he'd known Pike for a hell of a lot longer than the few days they'd spent chatting. Yet another cause for concern.

"My shrink thinks this---" Leonard waved a hand to take in the whole shuttle. "Is as good a method as any for 'resolving the emotional by provoking the physical' or some such."

Pike's chuckle sounded warm and low in the shuttle. "Glad to hear we've got the stamp of approval."

He paused, the mirth fading from his expression as his eyes held Leonard's. "McCoy, there's always a chance something could happen. In this shuttle, on a starship---in a ground car or crossing the street or sitting in a chair in your room. Bottom line is, we can't know when our last moment comes. We just have to live the best and bravest we can until it does."

Pike turned away and rested his hands---*finally*---on the console. "So...let's just warm the engines up, shall we?"

Leonard braced himself. Maybe this time, he could start with a 7---7.95.

***************  
***************

Late summer, a few weeks before McCoy's third year at Starfleet Academy...

Their graves---his daughter's and his father's---had changed since Leonard walked out of the cemetery at Beaudemain with Lamont on that sunny day almost two years ago. The ground wasn't churned up and bleeding black dirt. Instead, the scars had softened and blended into the mix of grass and wildflowers clad in their summer glories. The Earth had reclaimed her own.

Joanna's angel was scrubbed clean and shining. Leonard walked up to the image held between the statue's clasped hands. His little girl laughed up at him, all untamed curls and bright eyes. He sank to his knees in front of her and laid a bunch of daisies at the angel's feet.

"She looks happy." Pike's voice came from somewhere beyond Leonard's shoulder.

"She was---whenever I actually spent time with her, she was." Leonard settled back with a shake of the head. "My dad had already been diagnosed---pyrrhoneuritis, nasty stuff---so I was doin' research into that on top of rounds and surgeries. I didn't get to spend much time with Joanna or Joss---Jocelyn, my wife---most days."

Leonard sighed, admitted a truth that had only come to him after months of reflection---and some pointed questions from his way-too-perceptive shrink. That Joss had done her best to create a home sweet home...to keep him with them. "Joss was the one who had to deal with the tantrums and the teething, the spitting up and the potty training. That same godawful song played a thousand times or the vid on autoloop for days at a stretch. I even got out of diaper duty, more often than not."

He sighed as his fingers strayed to his baby girl's cheek. "I'm not sure how well I really knew Joanna...but I miss her."

The grass whispered as Pike took a step closer, stopped. Maybe trying to gauge Leonard's wish for company. Leonard twisted back toward Pike, nodding a welcome.

Pike folded down to one knee, leaning in to examine Joanna's portrait more closely. "She has your eyes."

"And according to her mama, every speck of my stubbornness." Speaking of Joss brought its own ache. One that was made up of equal parts of bitterness, loss, and shame.

"Joanna was gonna grow up just like her mama---little bitty thing, all ballerina twirls and bird bones." Leonard settled onto the grass cross-legged, fingers splayed in the turf.

He glanced over when Pike maneuvered to sit beside him. Still no pity in Pike's weathered face, only a quiet kind of waiting. Like Pike was OK with sittin' here all afternoon just listening to Leonard ramble. Or sittin' listening to the shiver of the cicadas hidden in the trees.

He jerked his eyes away from Pike, focused on the worn denim over his own knees, on the clench of his fingers digging in. Pike'd gone above and beyond helping Leonard get over his fits and shakes and palpitations at the thought of goin' into space. With Pike's help and plenty of practice calming himself down, Leonard could cut off his panic in six seconds flat.

And without "a drop of the medicinal", as Lamont would call it.

Pike was a good man. A good friend, after a summer of increasingly long shuttle trips that led to flying lessons. And the kind of easy conversations that meandered and looped and lazed when there was nowhere you had to be and no one you'd rather be with.

Leonard couldn't repay such kindness by mooning over the man like a 12-year-old girl with her first crush, yearnin', and feelin', and wantin'---even if Leonard had no practical experience of what to *do* with the guy if he ever actually got a hold of him.

He hadn't had any luck stopping the fall---no better than he had more than twenty years ago, when he'd first met Jocelyn Benoit and lost his heart at the ripe old age of six.

But that was his problem, not Pike's. When the new semester started, they would likely part ways. Some perverse itch in the back of Leonard's brain couldn't let it end sweet and friendly---couldn't leave that spark of hope deep inside where Joss was bein' nudged out by someone Leonard never would've expected to take up residence there.

So it was time for a little home truth. "It was my failures that put Joanna and my father in hallowed ground---but I almost sent my wife here with my own two hands."

Leonard lifted his eyes and looked over at Pike. "Joss blamed me for Joanna's death---said I'd killed Joanna as sure as if I'd crashed the flyer myself. Next thing I knew, I was wringin' Joss's neck...if the marriage counselor hadn't pulled me off her..."

He fell silent. Waited for Pike's face to change, to twist into a grimace of horror or disgust. Waited for the moment their easy rapport went to shit.

Instead, Pike's eyes traveled over him from forehead to scuffed boots and back again. "Did it feel like...like maybe, they were your hands, but it wasn't *you*?"

A quick, sharp breath shook Leonard from his shock. "Yeah, yeah it did. I couldn't stop but it almost seemed like---"

"Like it wasn't real---like somebody else was in your head making it happen, with you along for the ride." A frown creased Pike's forehead. "I know what that's like."

Leonard shifted forward, laying his fingertips on Pike's tense forearm. "What happened?"

"Alien mind control." Pike shifted away, pushed himself to his feet. "Some goddamned know-it-all bastards who wanted to breed some captive humans."

Pike paced his way along the grass, his voice a low mutter. "Bad enough they twisted my mind into wanting some poor thing they'd scraped out of a crashed ship. But they also brought some of my crew along for the ride: a starry-eyed girl barely out of the Academy---and my first officer."

Pike barked a laugh, sharp and bitter in the soft summer air. "Those aliens pulled out secrets that should've never been shared---but they either didn't comprehend or didn't care about the damage they were causing with their little plan. Guess they figured they could manipulate the flimsy humans into doing their bidding---and they damn near succeeded."

"Good God, man, whatever happened, you can't be held responsible. You said it yourself: You weren't in control." Leonard would've shaken the damn fool if Pike'd been in grabbing range.

"I don't---I blame myself for what came after." Pike sank back on the ground, raked one hand through his hair. "After we'd all been cleared---Sickbay, psych tests, debrief---my Number One came to me. Wanted to see if we could make something work between us. And I took her up on the offer."

Pike looked at Leonard, then dropped his eyes with a wince. "I was so twisted up in my own head. What I needed, what I wanted, what I had been, what I was. Acted like a stupid, selfish bastard for no better reason than I didn't want to be alone..."

The next words sounded forced. "It ended...badly. She requested a transfer---wanted off the ship and out of my life."

Pike straightened, seemed to return to himself as he held Leonard's gaze. "So I know what it's like, McCoy, to do things you never thought yourself capable of. To feel out of control and a stranger in your own skin. And to have to do your best to live with what it tells you about yourself."

Pike's long fingers stretched to ghost over the daisies. "I miss her...she was a good friend."

Leonard shook his head, pondering what they'd each lost---what they let themselves lose. And how brave Pike was to let Leonard see behind the consummate Starfleet officer. He twitched himself around to sit by Pike's side, leaning in and being leaned on as they watched the shadows of the leaves dance over the stone angel.


	3. Chapter 3

The next day...

Leonard glared at his shrink. This was not going well. He stood and crossed his arms, despite knowing exactly what that body language would project. "You heard me."

"Reverse Nightingale Syndrome." Doctor Chen Hansheng repeated Leonard's self-diagnosis slowly, as if sounding out unfamiliar words. Chen was goin' all out in an attempt to keep his face straight, if the twitches were anythin' to go by.

But the twinkle in the man's black eyes was all-too-irritatingly obvious.

"Well I'm sure as hell not callin' it 'Princess Syndrome' or 'Damsel in Distress Disorder'." Leonard found himself pacing the lush carpet, from bamboo screens to window to angelfish tank to desk to the grouping of oak tables and burgundy-cushioned couch and chairs that seemed standard for counselors everywhere.

"I'm not quite sure yet what to call this...development." Chen relaxed into his chair, folded blunt-tipped fingers over his solid torso. "Perhaps you would be willing to walk me through your thought process?"

Leonard threw himself into his chair with a huff. "All right. But you know most of it already---how Pike's been helpin' me to learn to ride in a shuttle without damn near pissin' myself every time."

Of course Chen knew---he'd provided Pike with the materials to talk Leonard through the level-down technique. So Leonard didn't bother to wait for Chen's nod before continuing. "Well we---Pike an' I---we've been spendin' a lot of time one-on-one, goin' on trips and all."

"And you believe the isolation of the situation fostered an illusion of intimacy?" A tilt of Chen's head had the lights dancing across the side part of his thick, dark hair. The man had been damn near unflappable during two years of sulks and rants and raves as Leonard rebuilt his shattered life---and came to grips with exactly what he was and was not responsible for.

So Leonard just gritted his teeth and answered the obvious. "Well, yeah. Bein' stuck together in a tiny carton of flyin' death'll do that, don't ya think?"

Chen didn't offer an opinion, verbal or otherwise. "And now you believe that this has created an unhealthy attachment to Captain Pike?"

Leonard nodded, slumping into his chair. He *enjoyed* his time with Pike, too much. Looked forward to their meetings, was already feelin' the loss even though the new semester hadn't started.

And yesterday, when Pike hadn't come down on him like Judgment Day after Leonard's confession, but instead revealed it was somethin' else they had in common...

"I'm dreamin' about him," Leonard blurted. And they weren't sweet and friendly dreams at all. Well, maybe it depended on the definition of 'friendly'.

Leonard almost squirmed in his seat. The dreams hadn't even been all that explicit---mostly a sense of skin-on-skin and Pike's eyes and hands and mouth. But he woke up flustered just the same. Although he figured part of that was because he was dreaming about *anyone* who wasn't Jocelyn.

"Does that bother you?" Chen's gaze didn't hold anything except the caring that had drawn Leonard in on that first visit.

"No, well, yes, it's just..." Leonard waved his fingers in one of those "all of this" sort of gestures. "He's a good man, a friend---*just* a friend."

Chen wrapped his hands behind his head, stretched out his back. Then he settled in again and gave Leonard one of those stares that said "Let's just cut the crap, hmmm?" "Leonard, do you really believe that you're *fixating* on Pike? And that the reason for this behavior is because he 'cured' you?"

Leonard dropped his eyes to his khakis, rubbed his hands down his thighs. "Um, I---"

Chen cut him off. "Has Pike cured you? Do you now have no fear of flying?"

"Hell, no. It's just that..." This required a moment of pondering. "He's helped me use those techniques to get through it."

"So, in essence, you're 'curing' yourself, correct? Therefore your diagnosis doesn't really seem appropriate under the circumstances." Chen shrugged. "I have to question whether this situation requires a 'diagnosis' at all. Perhaps you should reconsider your responses to Pike in terms of normal human interaction."

Chen leaned forward, gave a brief pat to Leonard's knee. "Isn't it possible that you have a perfectly natural attraction to the man?"

Leonard groaned and flung himself back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. "God, I hope not."

"Because Pike is a man?" There was nothing in Chen's tone to suggest he'd have a problem with either answer Leonard gave.

"No." It definitely wasn't something Leonard was used to, dreaming about a man. But Leonard didn't shy away from the idea---not because of *that*. "Because---well you know."

Now there was a hint of fondness in Chen's voice. "Why don't you remind me?"

Leonard reinstated his glare. "Because I'm not attracted to people." Never had been, besides Jocelyn. It was the way he'd always been---figured it was the way he'd always be. But now...

"True...from what we've discussed, you're attracted to *a person*. One at a time. It just so happens that your first attraction lasted twenty-some years." Chen waved off Leonard's protest before it could form. "I know, I know, you call it monomania and I call it being an old-fashioned romantic."

"But Pike doesn't need me mooning after him," Leonard muttered. *That* was the problem, and damn it if his shrink wasn't lifting a single finger to help Leonard get rid of it.

Chen's brows rose. "Maybe you should ask Captain Pike how he feels about it?"

"What, so we can be incredibly awkward for a few minutes before never talking about it or contacting each other ever again?" It'd been bad enough when Leonard was practically vibratin' out of his shuttle seat with fear. To be embarrassed because he made a pass at Pike and got shot down would be an even worse humiliation.

"Then that will probably remove your singular attraction to him," Chen pointed out. "If it doesn't and you feel it truly is something beyond your ability to incorporate and control, *then* we can talk in terms of diagnosis and treatment."

Leonard slumped forward to let his hands dangle between his knees. Really, he had to get a grip. He still did this every single damned time...

He slid his eyes over to peek at Chen. "I'm catastrophizing, right?"

Chen gave his patented "Don't ask me questions you're supposed to answer yourself" level gaze. "Your term, not mine."

"Fuck." Leonard sat up with a sigh. "Am I ever gonna get clear of this?"

"Leonard---" Chen offered his own sigh. "You and I both know this story. You were blindsided by life. It's not abnormal or unreasonable for you to try to protect yourself by anticipating the worst-case scenario."

He spread his hands. "But it might help if, in these moments, you could reflect that you've come a long way in the last two years---and that you're strong enough to handle whatever comes, Leonard. I truly believe that."

Chen stood, beckoning Leonard to do the same. "Time's up."

As Leonard stepped through the doorway, he jerked at a sudden slap on his shoulder. He looked back to see a glint of humor in Chen's eyes as the counselor said, "And I *really* think you need to retake some of your psych classes. Just to remind yourself of the definition of hypochondriac."

Leonard snorted.

***************  
***************

That same day...

Doctor Phyllis Boyce set a glass in front of Chris with a click. "Down payment."

Chris watched his old friend turn back to get her own drink. She passed a low cabinet crammed with framed holos as she settled into the high-backed seat behind her desk. The windows behind Phyll's blonde head showed the Academy grounds drenched in sunlight. He lifted the glass, the scent of vintage Saurian brandy already wafting into the air. "On what?"

"On the very nice dinner I owe you." Phyll tilted her chair back and flung her bootheels on the desk.

She slapped her trouser-covered thighs in a quick, staccato beat. Her lean face held a wolf's grin that accompanied a definite air of self-satisfaction. "McCoy's confirmed his semester schedule---including flight-mission training."

"He has? Then I guess...I guess my work is done." Chris dropped his eyes to the brandy, slowly rotating the glass back and forth on the clear surface of Phyll's desk.

He didn't really want to admit how much he'd miss his one-on-one sessions with McCoy. It was so easy to spend time with the doctor. To admire McCoy's courage to admit to fears, the determination to master them. The sardonic commentary, the flash of warmth that sometimes banished the shadows lurking in McCoy's eyes. The blunt truth, the honest reaction. The sense of camaraderie, of connection.

The tingle of anticipation---of a special spark just waiting to be kindled.

Chris managed not to shake his head at himself. While he hadn't acted like a fool---fortunately---he was feeling a bit like one. McCoy was more than a decade younger. The man hadn't given any indication he was interested in any deeper relationship than conversation and some help overcoming his aviaphobia.

Now that the mission was accomplished, there was little reason for a medical cadet to spend time with a temporary professor in the command track. Sure, they would likely see each other from time to time, walking across the campus or at official events.

But it wouldn't be the same. And not nearly enough.

"Hey." Phyll rapped her knuckles on the desk. "We are celebrating a victory here---my star pupil's ready to fly and Barnett lost big time, betting against you and McCoy."

Her gaze sharpened. "You shouldn't be looking like you've been volunteered to empty the bedpans after the latest bout of Andorian flu."

Chris grimaced at the visual. Picked up his drink and faked a smile as he saluted her with it. "To success."

"I've seen better acting from my cadavers." Phyll picked up her own drink and glared at him over the rim. "Out with it."

"It's nothing, Phyll---really. I just..." Chris shrugged. "I guess I'll just be missing the excuse to escape my office."

"Do I detect a certain hint of interest?" Phyll's eyebrows waggled in a most undignified manner. "Has the good doctor managed to make you forget your beloved Enterprise for more than a minute?"

That earned her a look that would have had the new recruits shaking in their boots. Chris grunted his annoyance as Phyll's grin just got wider. "Do *not* go there," he warned, little good it was likely to do.

And little good it did. "Why not?" Phyll's boots dropped to the floor with a thud as she sat up straight. "You're not still hung up on---"

"You think it's unreasonable for me to be a little hesitant to put myself in a similar situation?" Chris set his brandy down and braced his palms on the desk. Careful not to grip the edge with the same tension he could feel knotting up his shoulders.

"Similar how?" Phyll shook her head. "OK. Classy, brilliant, brown hair, long legs, great bods---but galaxies apart in terms of personality."

Chris was in no mood for joking. "I got in too deep, too fast with Brynn. And when I pulled out I ripped us both apart."

He sighed. "I screwed up, Phyll. Big time. And I hurt someone I cared deeply for."

Chris met her eyes, held them. "I don't want that to happen to McCoy. There's something about him...I don't want to see that happen to him. And I sure as hell don't want to be the one to do it."

Phyll met his gaze for a long moment. Then she rotated her chair to reach the low cabinet off to the side. Her hand closed around a holo in a frame, cradling it gently before she offered it to Chris.

Chris knew the picture, but stared at it all the same. A half-dozen of the Fortitude's main crew clustered around the captain's chair. Phyll leaned over the back on one side of Chris. On the other side stood Commander Brynn Daniels, the woman he'd called his Number One.

Back ramrod straight, hands folded behind her. A faint smile hinted at the gracious spirit behind the stern reserve.

He kept his eyes on the holo as Phyll began to speak. "Look, Chris, both of you took a chance---both of you. And it didn't work out---that happens sometimes. Maybe you were both still too twisted around with what those crazy aliens did to your heads. Maybe you should never have taken the step beyond friends."

Her touch on his wrist startled him into looking up. Phyll looked as serious as he'd ever seen her as she reclaimed the holo. "But the past should stay there. Learn from it, move on. You know that. Haven't you punished yourself enough?"

Chris's eyes strayed to the cabinet, where other holos jumbled together in a celebration of happy times. He could pick out McCoy in a handful of them, scowling or grinning depending on who had corralled him for the shot. "Even if I...it's not my call."

Phyll snorted. "You mean you don't wanna stick your neck out."

Chris's shoulders went back as his head came up. "He's *a lot* younger---"

"Oh, don't give me that crap. I said the same thing to Selena 15 years ago when she proposed." Phyll made her wedding ring flash in the sunlight. "She didn't believe me then, and I don't believe you now."

The thought of Phyll's dainty badass of a wife made Chris's lips twitch. "I'm not as tough as your better half---I might not survive."

"But you'd like to find out?" At Chris's reluctant nod, Phyll sprang into action. She pulled her desk comm over and punched a speed-contact number.

Chris froze in shock as McCoy's voice came over the speaker. "Problem, boss?"

"Maybe some trouble, maybe not." Phyll looked straight at Chris as she spoke. "Look, McCoy, I know you know we're all adults here and Starfleet doesn't give a crap who people bang as long as everybody's consenting, adult, and not playing power games outside the bedroom. And I'm not tellin' you what to do or not do, 'cause frankly it's not business I wanna stick my nose into."

She held up her hand when Chris opened his mouth.

"But you and Pike have spent enough time together to know if you're interested and if it's worth exploring that interest. I can tell you this: He'll probably be your captain someday, so he's not gonna say one syllable about how he'd like to expand your frontiers. So if you want the man, you're gonna have to come and get him. Or at least make the first move."

Phyll punched the comm off, then dusted her hands. "That takes care of that."

"I can't believe you did that." Chris didn't know whether to kiss Phyll or kick her scrawny, meddling ass.

"It was a perfectly sound tactical move, Professor." She shrugged. "Saves me watching the two of you mope around all semester until you remove your anteriors from your posteriors."

Chris's comm sounded before he could come up with a reply. He swallowed as he turned on the screen to see a text message waiting. From McCoy.

"Well?" Phyll seemed entirely too interested in a matter she claimed she wasn't planning to butt into.

Chris scowled at her before opening the message: 

/Feel free to ignore this---especially if it makes things weird.

Look, I'd like to keep seeing you. I'm interested, OK?

If *you're* interested, meet me at the watering hole. I'm sure your little spies can tell you when.

\---McCoy/

Chris could feel the smile spreading over his face. It seemed completely unaffected by the jumping nerves in his stomach.

"I guess I don't need to ask what that says---or who it's from." Phyll's thoughtful sip of brandy did not bode well. "You know what, I think maybe you owe *me* a nice dinner instead."

She flashed her wolf's grin. "I'll make sure Selena's free. We can double date."

Chris fled.


	4. Chapter 4

That evening...

Leonard stopped short at the sight of Pike in a booth halfway between the door and the bar. The captain's intense gaze was currently fixed on a glass of something clear with a twist of lime.

The dark leather of the high-backed booth picked out the touches of white in Pike's hair. The navy tunic he wore had a V-neck collar that showed the line of his throat. His hands were folded on the table.

The need to be closer got Leonard moving forward before he was aware. He skidded to a stop on the pub's polished floor.

Pike looked up and locked on him.

Leonard swallowed, jerked a nod. Threw himself onto the bench opposite Pike with a scowl. "This better not be weird."

A chuckle startled out of Pike, a small smile lighting his face. "You assume it will be?"

Leonard rolled his shoulders and set his elbows on the table. "I'm just sayin'."

Pike didn't need to come up with a reply as Chantelle strolled up to offer Leonard a manicured hand. Her dress was citron-bright in the lamplight. "Welcome."

Old habit had Leonard half-rising in his seat as he clasped the lady's hand in his own. "Thank you, ma'am."

"And are you also keeping a clear head this evening?" Her sly smile was very much in evidence as she lifted a brow.

Leonard shot a quick glance at Pike. "Uh, yeah, I guess."

As Chantelle departed, Leonard resettled in his seat. He'd been riding a roller coaster of anxiety and anticipation since he'd sent the text to Pike. Learning that Pike was early didn't actually relieve his mind any. "You here to let me down easy?"

"You want me to?" Pike's tone didn't offer any clues. His expression was neutral, but his eyes...

Leonard swallowed, stared back. Felt each heartbeat, each breath pass in, out. Finally managed to shake his head a fraction.

"Here you go." Chantelle's velvet-clad arm crossed his view. She placed a cocktail napkin and glass identical to Pike's in front of him.

He felt the ghost of her touch along his shoulder as she straightened.

Time seemed to click back up to normal speed. Leonard watched Pike's fingers flex, then wrap around his glass. One long finger tapped out an irregular beat.

Leonard's brows lifted---Pike seemed just as ill at ease as he was.

A cleared throat drew his attention back to Pike's face. Pike leaned in to speak. "Look, despite what I told you yesterday, I don't make a habit of this---of dating fellow officers."

"Good to know." A relief, actually. There wasn't a lot of scuttlebutt about Pike's habits, companion-wise, but there could've been covert operations. Leonard fiddled with a corner of his napkin. "Truth to tell, I don't make a habit of dating at all."

Pike rested his cheek on one hand, his air of tension giving way to curiosity. "Why is that? I mean---it seems like you shouldn't have any problems in that department."

A fair question. It had been two years since the divorce. Leonard shifted in his seat. Debated just how honest to be.

Pike's gaze held steady. That same air of patience, of acceptance.

Leonard sighed. Dropped his eyes and lifted his drink. He grimaced at the bitter tang of tonic water. Fished out the lime and scraped the rind along his teeth.

He rolled the zest around his tongue. Probably looked like a cow working a rough bit of grass. But finally he swallowed and met Pike's waiting gaze. "When I was six years old, I looked at Jocelyn Benoit---Joss. Took her nine years to look back."

The casual shrug felt unfamiliar, but somehow true. "We had ten good years together, a few pretty lousy ones. And even after we were done...I never really looked at anybody else."

Leonard took a breath. "'Til now."

Felt like he stopped breathing until Pike pushed his own drink aside and stroked fingertips lightly against Leonard's hand. Pike's voice was quieter, deeper than Leonard had ever heard it. "I'm honored."

That sent a flush rushing up Leonard's throat to his cheeks, making him duck his head. "Yeah, well Cap---um, I can't really call you Captain or Sir for this---"

"Name's Chris." The slight smile reappeared, adding a warmth to Pike's---Chris's---eyes.

Leonard found himself smiling back. "Leonard."

"Leonard." The smile faded as Pike leaned back and regarded him. "Leonard, when you let me know you were interested, I---but I have to ask. I don't wanna screw up another friendship. You had a lot to deal with over the last few months. Are you sure that this isn't just---just some kind of misplaced gratitude?"

Oddly enough, the question made Leonard's nerves settle down some. Maybe 'cause it showed they were both bein' careful about this. That it mattered. "Yeah, I'm sure---I'm not sure what it'll end up as, but I'm sure I'd like to find out."

He cleared his throat and shifted a little in his seat. "But, um, I was raised kind of---and I've never---we're gonna have to go slow."

Chris's nod came with another small smile. "So...we're gonna do this?"

Felt like the first day of med school, not knowin' how things would go but knowin' he didn't wanna be anywhere else in the damned galaxy. Leonard reached out this time and laid a hand on Chris's wrist. "Yeah, I guess we are."

Chris raised his glass. "To going slow---but going forward."

Leonard clinked his own against it. "Sorry, Chris, but I'm not drinkin' any more of this swill."

Chris's laugh sparked Leonard's own.

***************  
***************

An hour later...

"Fuck." Leonard's curse husked through his heavy breaths.

"Ouch," was Chris's reply. He pulled a reluctant hand out of Leonard's hair to feel behind himself in the dark. His fingers slipped along cold whorls of metal. "Bench."

"Y'OK?" Leonard was already scrambling back on the grass, touch now careful instead of clutching as his hands ghosted along Chris's side and back.

"Yeah." Chris slid far enough away to avoid a bang on his head as well. Pushed himself to his feet.

His eyes adjusted to the darkness after a few blinks. The sight of Leonard's mussed hair set Chris's fingers combing over his own head. "Sorry---got a little carried away there."

"Yeah, we both did." Leonard accepted a hand up.

Seemed the most natural thing in the world to gather Leonard close, rest their foreheads together as their breaths slowed.

A toast---with something Leonard would actually drink---led to a slow walk back to the campus. The small park seemed the perfect setting for a first kiss.

The jumping nerves, fluttering stomach hadn't been expected. Chris hadn't felt that kind of *waiting* since the first time he'd kissed anyone.

But that innocent adolescent peck was like a candle compared to the bonfire that erupted when he'd met Leonard's lips with his own. A bump of noses had Leonard grumbling and Chris chuckling, the down-and-up curves of their lips meeting in a messy slide.

But at that first touch, Chris locked on target. One kiss led to another, led to open mouths and the slide of wet and heat. Strong fingers holding his head in place. Dense muscles under his hands as he gripped Leonard close.

He didn't know who dropped first, but the next thing Chris knew he was in a rough-and-tumble in the grass, first on top of Leonard, then underneath him, legs and arms sliding and shifting and tangling. Leonard's thick hair a welcome anchor as each kiss slid into the next.

Leonard huffed a breath and put a hand's breadth of space between them. "That was quite an introduction."

His drawl was more in evidence since their toast. Maybe a sign of him starting to relax around Chris.

Light fingers stroked Chris's waist, sending a shiver down Chris's spine. Chris grunted an agreement. Lifted a hand to cup Leonard's jaw. "Not what I'm used to."

Rolling around on the grass was definitely *not* the usual behavior of seasoned Starfleet captains.

The muscles shifted under his palm as Leonard grinned. "Good."

Chris laughed but dropped his free hand to Leonard's firm derriere, delivering a solid smack. "I thought you were supposed to keep people *out* of trouble."

"I keep *Jim* out of trouble for my own peace of mind. You..." Leonard's voice dropped as he slid close again, breath ghosting over Chris's skin. "Are a different matter entirely."

Chris abandoned conversation for the feel of ripe lips parting for him.


	5. Chapter 5

One month later...

Chris's greeting hushed past Leonard's ear. "Hey."

Even that soft sound jerked Leonard upright. He shook his head as he sat forward. Swung his legs to the side of the poolside lounger he'd chosen, watched Chris drop a towel on another.

Leonard cleared his throat, brought his thoughts back to the here and now. "Hey yourself."

"Got Phyll's message." Chris bumped knees with Leonard as he sat on the end of his lounger. 

He studied Leonard's face, a frown creasing his brow. "You sure you wanna do this today? We can reschedule."

Leonard shrugged and dropped his gaze to his hands. Flexed them. "Could use the distraction." Understatement of the century. Being on-call for the local hospitals for trauma surgery sometimes meant you could make a real difference.

And sometimes it only meant you got to be the one to deliver the bad news.

He jumped a little when Chris's warm fingers closed around Leonard's right hand. Relaxed with a sigh as Chris began massaging the palm, working out the stiffness of a too-long surgery.

"I'm sorry," Chris murmured, not looking up from his task.

"Yeah." Leonard stared at Chris's bent head. The afternoon sun shone warm around them, brightening the blue-and-white of Chris's slacks and T-shirt.

This was Leonard's choice of venue. They were meeting every few days for a chat that more often than not led to some very intense necking.

Visits to local museums or parks, or a stroll and a meal in an unfamiliar neighborhood. Leonard didn't really care where they went or what they did, as long as he got to see and talk to Chris.

And kiss him. A lot. Grope the man. A little. It was the latter that led to this venue---a rooftop pool at a San Francisco hotel.

They were still at first base, with Chris expecting Leonard to lead the way to second. Leonard was torn between admiration for Chris's self-control and the need to rip Chris's clothes off.

This meeting was part of Leonard's plan to do just that. But now he wasn't sure he could get into the mood...

"You know it wasn't your fault." Chris finished up on Leonard's right hand, switched to the other. His strokes and rubs were just firm enough and not too rough---just what Leonard needed.

"Wasn't anythin' we could do." Leonard heaved a breath. "Damn fool kid should've known better. Pullin' a stunt like that with an anti-grav bike---*and* no helmet. What was he thinkin'---"

Chris pulled on Leonard's thumb, rotated it a little. "Probably wasn't. Like you said, he was just a kid."

"Goddamn stupidity..." Leonard muttered. The 15-year-old boy would never think again. Or do anything else. "The damage was too much...couldn't get the matrix to hold for cellular regeneration."

Chris's smooth thumbs worked at the tendons at the base of Leonard's hand. He didn't say anything, but his eyes held an understanding that made Leonard wonder how many deaths Chris had weathered in his time.

Leonard blew out another breath. "Parents donated his body to the med school. Let the students get some hands-on training." It was about the only thing folks could do anymore. Custom organ cloning had replaced the transplants that used to help a family make some sense of a senseless death.

He shook his head. "What I should do is drag Jim and all his stupid friends in to see what happens when you pull crap just for a thrill---one of these days he's gonna---"

"If he does, it'll be *Jim's* fault, not yours." Chris clasped both Leonard's hands now. Gave them a small shake. "Just like today was that boy's poor choices and bad luck, not yours."

"Doesn't make it any easier." Leonard twined his fingers around Chris's. Offered a smile. "Thanks."

Chris nodded and let the silence hold.

Leonard closed his eyes and did a slow count down. Gradually, he let the tension bleed out and away, setting aside what he couldn't change.

When he was done, he straightened up and released Chris's hands.

Chris rolled his shoulders and looked around. "So are we swimming?"

"If you want---" Leonard sent him a sharp look. "And if you already visited the sunscreen booth."

"I followed doctor's orders to the letter." Chris leaned forward to slip off his sandals before standing.

Leonard's eyes skimmed the dark hairs that dusted Chris's forearms. "Uh, there's actually something you should know..."

"Oh?" Chris paused in lifting his T-shirt. A tantalizing sliver of skin flashed just at Leonard's eye level.

"Yeah." Leonard stood up. In less than thirty seconds he stripped down to his swim trunks. He crossed his arms over his chest, awaiting Chris's verdict.

"Um..." Chris's arms lowered. His eyes swept Leonard from head to toe, toe to head, then paused at a few places before finally meeting Leonard's gaze. "Not to be crass, but everything looks fine to me---damn fine."

Leonard's eyes dropped down to his own bare torso, arms, and legs. Truly bare---completely hairless. He leaned in, "It's, um, all like that. I just didn't wanna startle you. When we, uh..."

"Move to the next level? Not gonna be a problem." Chris's dilated eyes certainly supported his assertion.

Until his brows suddenly drew together in a frown. "Unless *you* have a problem with..." Chris stripped off his T-shirt and pants.

*He* had a full mat of dark hair across his chest, drawing Leonard's eyes down to the waistband...and imagining what lay beyond. 

Leonard licked his lips. "Uh, no, not a problem."

Chris sidled closer, until Leonard shivered at the faintest brush of hair against him. "So is this a personal preference, or is there some history to it?"

Leonard had no way of stopping his body's rather obvious reaction. "Tell you in the pool."

A few quick steps and he jumped into the deep end. The sun-warmed water closed around and above him as he sank to the bottom and pushed back up. When he broke the surface he swiped his hair back and looked around.

Chris was a meter or so away. He snagged a double float and beckoned Leonard.

Leonard kicked his way over. At Chris's nod, Leonard pulled up onto his side in perfect time with Chris.

The float wobbled for a moment under their combined weight, but soon stabilized. When Leonard was sure he wasn't about to get dumped back in, he carefully rolled onto his stomach beside Chris. "It started as a case of self-preservation. I was posted in a hospital that still had the interns hot-sheeting it---sharing bunks in shifts."

Leonard still cringed at the memory. "We all got to enjoy a nasty case of intergalactic body lice. Most of us had everything below the neck stripped off and the follicles switched off to discourage passengers."

Chris shuddered. "Ugh---no wonder you went for such drastic measures."

A shrug had Leonard's elbows squeaking along the float. "Took 'em months to get the place cleaned out. Got used to bein' bare and never bothered to switch anything back on."

Leonard settled his chin on his crossed arms. His eyes slid over to Chris's chest. The water had clumped the hairs into dark whorls that his fingers itched to dive into.

He firmly told himself this was neither the time nor the place and closed his eyes, the sun warm against his back and legs.

"So did you have any specific plans for this afternoon?" Chris's voice sounded as lazy as their slow glide across the pool.

"Not really," Leonard admitted. "We have use of the pool and sauna, locker rooms. I thought maybe pick something up to eat on the walk back to the Academy."

"Would you be open to a suggestion?" Chris tugged at Leonard's hair until Leonard looked up.

"Depends on what you have in mind." Leonard set aside the day's events, met Chris's slow grin with one of his own.

"Well, we could enjoy the water some more, then move to one of those little poolside tents." Chris leaned closer. "Draw the curtains and spend some time getting to know each other a little better."

Leonard didn't spend too long considering. It was perfect---public enough that they'd have to keep their suits on, private enough to do some exploring of new territory.

He shifted on the float, skin prickling as he thought of Chris's fingers stroking him all over.

"Sounds good---very good." Leonard hid his smile as he pushed up on his elbows and looked at Chris. "But you have to catch me first."

Then he rolled off the float, dumping Chris into the water as he swam for the far end of the pool.

***************  
***************

Chris smiled as he watched Leonard's eyes drifting half-closed. Leonard was very much like a cat, his low hum practically a purr as Chris stroked fingers through Leonard's thick hair. Chris was being lulled himself by the feel of the strands sifting through his fingers, pelt-soft and heavy.

Leonard sprawled on his stomach. He managed to completely cover his share of the low platform bed under the tent, *and* claim a portion of Chris's space as well. Chris didn't mind---it had been too long since he experienced the warmth and weight of another body beside his own.

And this close-up view was far more enticing than the one through the pulled-back curtains. The setting sun lit the windows of the piece of San Francisco visible from the rooftop, slowly melting from gold to copper.

After finally catching Leonard and taking revenge for the unexpected dunking, the two of them swam a few laps and lazed by the side of the pool.

Eventually a round of fruit smoothies led them to a tent---and to explorations that convinced Chris that Leonard definitely enjoyed Chris's "more natural" state.

It hadn't taken long for Chris to appreciate the finer points of Leonard's smooth anatomy---or to demonstrate that appreciation. Up to a point, of course; they were still in a public place.

Speaking of which... "Leonard?" Chris kept his volume low, willing to postpone more conversation if Leonard was truly drifting off.

"Yeah?" Leonard roused enough to prop up on his elbows.

"You know how Phyll already knows about us?" Chris waited for Leonard's puzzled nod before continuing. "Well, I'd like to tell Barnett."

Leonard blinked twice, long lashes sweeping up and down wide eyes that at the moment were tending more green than brown. "The Academy Commandant---why?"

"Is it a problem?" A chill passed through him. Chris frowned. He thought things were going well...

"No, not really." Leonard must have read something in Chris's expression. He reached up and rubbed his fingers along Chris's forehead as if trying to soothe the lines. "Sorry if that came out wrong. I just wondered why he would care."

Leonard rolled to his side, propping his head on one hand. "There aren't any regs against us---I checked."

"I know---it's more of a preventive measure." Chris pushed up and twisted to mirror Leonard's position. "I promise you I am not making any assumptions or trying to push you into anything. I just---if you ever want to meet at my place, I don't wanna sneak around."

Leonard seemed to consider the situation a few moments while he reached up to scrape a thumb along his eyebrow. The he gave a decisive nod. "Yeah, I'm OK with you telling whoever. You, uh, you know my shrink already knows about us, right?"

"I figured as much." Chris paused. "Have you told Jim yet?"

An eye-roll accompanied Leonard's snort. "Nah---wouldn't do that without givin' you fair warning."

"For the record, I'm OK with you telling whoever as well." Chris traced a pattern on the towel under them. "There's, uh, one other thing you should know."

The scrunch of Leonard's eyebrows was distinctly wary. "Yes...?"

Chris let it out in a rush. "Phyll said Selena wants to have dinner with us."

Leonard sat up. "You wanna go on a double-date with Godzillena?"

"Godzillena..." Chris tried hard not to laugh. "Who came up with that one?"

Leonard's lips were twitching as well. "One of the engineering cadets---don't ask me to name names. Doctor-patient confidentiality."

Chris's breath caught as Leonard leaned close to whisper, "But the word is that Phyll is the only thing keeping the monster from rampaging through the Academy like a cardboard Tokyo."

"She's not that bad," Chris insisted. "She's just...very certain of her opinions."

"And very...creative in her language choices, if memory serves," Leonard pointed out.

Chris snorted. "That settles it. My dear Mr. Pot, I'm determined to see you with Mrs. Kettle."

He rolled up off the lounger and grabbed his clothes. "Besides, it's about time that woman had somebody else's ass to pinch after she's had a glass of wine or two."


	6. Chapter 6

The next day...

"What---are you out of your goddamned mind? No way in hell I'm answerin' that question." Leonard shook his head as he grabbed his tray and stormed across the cafeteria, still muttering about the *nerve* of some people. He was lucky his coffee was in a travel mug---otherwise the contents might not have survived the trip.

Jim gallumped behind him like an overexcited Great Dane. "C'mon, Bones, all I want are a few insignificant details."

Leonard set the tray down with the kind of care and precision that should have raised a red alert. Would have, in anyone less oblivious to the moods of his fellow sentient beings.

He sat and lifted his knife and fork. As Leonard began to cut the contents of his salad into manageable bites, he contemplated the many, many ways Jim could be rendered temporarily yet painfully mute.

His reverie was broken by Jim flinging himself into the seat opposite. "You don't understand, Bones. D'you know how many betting pools involve Pike? Boxers or briefs? Whiskey or beer? Pajamas or au naturel? We could be swimming in credits!"

Leonard took a deep breath, let it out slowly. "Jim, you really need to change the subject."

Jim opened his mouth, closed it, waited half a minute before he opened it again. "How long's it been goin' on?"

Leonard shrugged. "Actual dating? 'Bout a month, give or take."

Jim shoved his grin into Leonard's face. "Is Pike as take charge in the bedroom as he is everywhere else?"

"Jim!" Leonard wasn't about to admit that they hadn't been anywhere near a bedroom---or that he couldn't even answer the underwear question. Jim wouldn't understand---the brat was usually rollin' around in the hay after an acquaintance of five minutes, much less dating for five weeks.

"What? Inquiring minds wanna know." Jim snagged Leonard's roll and ripped into it.

Leonard tipped his head to the side and studied Jim's face. "What is it that you *really* wanna know?"

Jim dropped the roll. He stared at the table for a moment, then pasted on a bright smile and popped upright. "You still gonna be my wingman?"

Leonard sighed. This would be a good moment to say "No". To let Jim fly solo and realize just how much trouble he would get into if Leonard wasn't screening his "acquaintances" and keeping the peace.

He couldn't do it. "Yeah."

Winced as Jim reached over and pounded his shoulder. "Stop that and let me eat my lunch in peace."

At least he made Jim get him another roll.

***************  
***************

"Just a minute, Phyll---I wanna send this data off before lunch." Chris grimaced as Phyll fainted into a visitor's chair with exaggerated shock.

"Oooh, let me guess: Some timid little ensign wants approval to use a six-centimeter thingamajig instead of five-centimeter one in the second-level whatsit." Phyll ignored his glare and set her boots on Chris's desk.

"No, some members of the brass want more details about how the Enterprise is progressing." Chris rolled his eyes. "And they want the report four hours before they asked for it."

"Standard Operating Procedure." Phyll shrugged. "Tell me something I don't know."

Chris took the opening. "I wrote Brynn." Phyll's raised brows made him offer more. "I---I wanted to tell her about Leonard before she heard it elsewhere."

Phyll's gaze focused laser-sharp on Chris's face. "Wrote? So you didn't comm her?"

He dropped his eyes to his desk. "Didn't want it to feel like I was forcing her to talk to me."

Phyll's grunt was noncommittal. "Did you at least congratulate her on the promotion?"

"Of course." That brought a smile. Chris knew his former Number One would make an exceptional captain.

"It's probably a good thing you gave her a heads-up." Phyll lifted a hand. "She'll probably be back on Earth for the handoff."

"Yeah." Chris both hoped for and dreaded the reunion---assuming Brynn would even want to see him.

Phyll slapped the arm of her chair. "In happier news, the building's still standing, so Barnett must have survived being informed of your torrid liaison."

"Not funny, Phyll." Chris wondered if this sudden desire for detailed reports was a reaction to the news rippling across the brass. As if the higher-ups were afraid he was spending his time daydreaming and not doing his job.

And yes, he did have those moments when he was caught by things he wanted to tell Leonard, or things he realized about his new lover. But he was hardly a starry-eyed adolescent wrapped up in a first crush.

Phyll sat up and folded her hands in an obvious---and futile---attempt to project an air of decorum. "You do realize that I have the solemn responsibility to give both Leonard *and* you the 'don't screw this up' speech?"

"I think I can forgo the pleasure." Chris paused, sobering. "I did learn my lesson with Brynn."

"I'm sure you did." Phyll's expression softened. "And I'm pretty sure Leonard and you will conduct yourselves like responsible adults. But Chris, Leonard can save a lot of lives, do a lot of good in Starfleet. I don't want to lose his skills. And more importantly, I don't want to lose a good man who's become a good friend. So don't screw this up."

"Yeah, you medical types all stick together," Chris muttered in an attempt to lighten the mood. He could offer Phyll all the reassurances in the world, but they were only words.

Phyll leaned forward and patted Chris's hand. "Now, now, no need to be jealous. Like I said, *both* of you will be hearing from me."

Chris hmphed.

Phyll smacked the same hand. "Behave, or I'll tell Selena I think you need a good talking to."

Unfortunately, it was not an empty threat. "No fair."

The treacherous woman flashed him a grin. "I know."

Chris offered a bow and a flourish. "Fine, on behalf of Leonard and myself, I thank you for your most tender concern for our welfare."

"That's better." Phyll stood and set her hands on her hips. "Now tell the admirals to stick it and take me to lunch."

Chris snorted and sent the report on its way. He stood and circled his desk, joining Phyll at the door.

"Oh, by the way," Phyll said as they stepped into the corridor, "Selena thinks a cozy dinner at your place would be the perfect venue to observe your interactions with the good doctor."

***************  
***************

A few weeks later...

"It's not fair." Chris made the proclamation with a wave of a dessert plate before placing it in the cabinet.

Leonard gave him the eye, his gloved hands currently occupied with wiping down the counters. "Bullshit---I shouldn't even be helping you. I did my share of cleaning up while making dinner."

It hadn't been all that complicated---but it was made from scratch. Appetizers, salad, shrimp scampi on zucchini ribbons, blueberry shortcakes. He thought he'd done a pretty good job leaving Chris's well-stocked kitchen in decent condition.

"Not the washing up." Chris stepped close and pressed a quick kiss to Leonard's lips. "Thanks for doing the prep, by the way."

Leonard shrugged, still getting used to the warm-shivery feeling that being appreciated by Chris provoked. "Thanks for giving me the run of your kitchen. It's been a while since I had the chance to put on my chef's hat."

Chris started sorting flatware. "You mentioned once that you did a lot of cooking, growing up?"

It took a moment to answer. Leonard rode the rush of memories of earlier times, people he'd loved and lost. "Yeah. Started out helping my mom---she didn't trust 'that synthesized garbage scrambled up from who knows what'."

Chris's quick over-the-shoulder smile encouraged Leonard to continue. "After she died, my dad was so broken up---we both were---nobody would've blamed him if we started eatin' thinplast. But after folks finally stopped droppin' off cakes an' casseroles, he pulled out Mama's antique recipe box an' said she wouldn't want us eatin' that 'scrambled stuff'."

Leonard smiled. "The first thing in there was buckwheat pancakes---took us a while to come up with somethin' you couldn't use to shingle a roof."

Chris closed the drawer and walked over, slid an arm around Leonard's waist. "Sounds like some good memories."

"Yeah." Leonard leaned in, rubbed his cheek against Chris's. "Kept us together. After a while, we got through Mama's recipes and all of Gran's and started tryin' different cuisines. When Dad and I would have a fight---stupid teenage stuff---we'd work it out in the kitchen."

After a moment, Leonard straightened and tilted his head. "So what wasn't fair?"

"Thanks for reminding me." Chris swatted Leonard's hip. "All that 'Godzillena' crap. Selena *likes* you." 

Chris shook his head. "You didn't tell me she liked you---you've been holding out on me."

"Hey, you didn't ask. We Southern boys and girls stick together." Leonard pulled off his gloves. He'd bonded with Phyll's wife over the taste of fresh peaches and the memories of summers growing up in the steam heat. He also liked Selena's straight-talking, no-bullshit way of dealing with the world. Chris was right about that: Mr. Pot and Mrs. Kettle didn't have any problems getting along.

A snort was Chris's only response. He snagged Leonard's hand and tugged him into the living room. "So, you staying or going?"

Leonard debated as he settled next to Chris on the couch. He rubbed the soles of his boots on the bland brown carpet as he stared at standard-issue walls. Chris had added some personal touches to his bivouac---holos and prints, ship models, books and plants. And the more-comfortable-than-expected navy couch. 

He was tempted, but... "I guess I'd better head back to the dorm. Lots to do tomorrow."

Chris nodded like he wasn't surprised. "Guess you'll have some busy days ahead of you to get ready for your trip."

Phyll dropped that little bombshell during dessert. Leonard wanted to wait for a good, *private* moment to tell Chris that he wouldn't be around for most of the winter break. The "errand of mercy" mission to temporarily relieve some Starbase personnel would give Leonard some flight hours and experience serving off-planet.

Leonard figured it would be a good opportunity to see if he could ramp up his calm-down routines enough to actually operate out in the black---literally and otherwise. That it also neatly avoided any awkwardness about holiday plans was just a bonus. "Yeah, sorry---"

"No, you're not." Chris's rueful smile crinkled the corners of his eyes as he lifted a hand and tugged at Leonard's hair. "But some warning might've been nice."

Of course Leonard was bein' a chicken-shit about meetin' Chris's folks---but it was still way too early for that kind of milestone. Chris probably agreed, given the lack of squawking after Phyll's reveal.

Or Chris really was as wary of Selena as the rest of Starfleet.

"Yeah." Leonard did some tugging this time, and Chris agreeably settled against his side. Leonard's hand slipped under Chris's shirt, wrapped around his lover's ribs.

Chris hummed an approval and stroked a finger down Leonard's forearm. "So what'd you do the last two years?"

Leonard shrugged. "Mostly worked---lot of extra shifts to pick up, this time of year."

"You never went back to Georgia?" Chris propped himself up to meet Leonard's eyes.

"Nah, just didn't---it didn't feel right." Leonard wasn't about to go into just how reluctant he'd been. His kin, friends---even Lamont---had issued invitations. But he'd turned them all down. He'd also said a rare "No" to Jim, who wanted Leonard to tag along while Jim met up with his mother.

This year...with Chris, things might've been different, but Leonard was still all too aware of how much territory they had yet to cover. Maybe he *felt* at home with Chris, but he didn't yet want to go home with him.

Leonard sighed as Chris shifted on the couch and caught his lips in a kiss. Leonard parted for the playful tongue that tangled with his own. His hand under Chris's shirt slid in and up, aiming for the feel of wiry hair sliding between his fingers.

One kiss led into another as Leonard got lost in the touch of his lover and the heat and need singing through him. He moaned quietly as clever fingers teased his nipples through his thin shirt. Leonard's chest arched at a delicious twist that sent pleasure-pain skittering across excited nerves.

He ended the lip-lock and scraped his teeth along the fine edge of Chris's jaw. Chris hissed and shivered, Leonard's hands grasping tighter in response.

Leonard grunted when Chris suddenly pushed back. He let himself be moved to the center of the couch.

His brows rose as he watched Chris kneel in front of him, Chris's lean form wedging between his thighs. He swallowed as Chris's hands slid slowly from knee to hip, thumbs brushing the seams of Leonard's trousers. "Um, Chris----"

Chris smiled as his fingers wandered to Leonard's fly. "Early Solstice present."

Leonard swallowed again as clever fingers opened his pants. He lifted his hips to help Chris peel his clothing down enough to expose him. His cock was filling, responding to the stroke of Chris's fingertips from the root to the head.

Sweat broke out along his hairline. Since the day at the pool, they'd explored each other---bodies sliding together or jerking each other off---but this was new.

His own breath caught as Chris's exhale caressed the head of his cock. Chris's eyes held his as Chris's smile widened.

Leonard's breath came out in a rush, a moan, at the moist warmth of Chris's lips and tongue on the head of his cock. It had been years... "Fuck."

His hips thrust at Chris's chuckle, at the grip and release as Chris sucked and licked. His legs splayed wider.

Chris hummed his approval. Long fingers wrapped around the base of Leonard's cock as Chris's other hand delved beneath cloth to tease Leonard's sac.

Leonard managed to keep his eyes fixed on Chris, at the smile still clear in Chris's gaze as he worked to drive Leonard insane. Leonard tried to let Chris set the pace, but his body jerked forward again and again, his cock sliding deeper into Chris's mouth until lips met fingers and Leonard's cock was totally encased.

He couldn't catch his breath, couldn't keep his body still. He clamped his fingers on his own thighs to keep from tearing out Chris's hair as he dangled between pleasure and pressure. He could feel his balls drawing up, gasped as Chris's fingers slipped even farther back. "Chris---"

His voice strangled as his body shook with release. Chris sucked in time with Leonard's pulses, drawing out his orgasm until his nerves danced on the edge of pain. "Chris..."

Chris pulled off with a final slow, long lick that had Leonard melting into the couch. He had to smile as Chris adjusted Leonard's clothing with precise movements before unfolding and resettling on the couch.

Leonard stroked the backs of his fingers down Chris's cheek. "Thanks."

"You're welcome." Chris started to lean forward, then stopped, eyes questioning.

"C'mere." A quick tug brought Chris in for a lazy kiss. Leonard had tasted his own cum enough times over the years of his marriage not to care. He slid his fingers through the waves of Chris's hair, his thumbs stroking the fine skin over Chris's cheekbones.

Chris hitched closer, bracing one hand on the back of the couch.

Leonard wrapped his arms around Chris, stroked his palms up and down Chris's sides. He pulled his head back a fraction, shared panting breaths. "What do you..."

Chris leaned in and pulled Leonard's collar aside to lap at the sweat gathered on his throat. "I could use a hand."

It took Leonard a few moments to process the words as he tilted his head to encourage more of Chris's attentions. He slid one hand down, fumbled a bit at Chris's waistband before finally pushing him back. "Lemme see."

"Yes, sir." Chris flung his arms out over the back of the couch with a grin.

Leonard snorted and took advantage of Chris's position to pull his lover's shirt off. Chris lifted his arms obligingly, then landed a hand on the back of Leonard's head.

A subtle push was all Leonard needed to begin nibbling at Chris's chest, teasing the hard nubs and rubbing his cheek and jaw against warm skin and rough hair. He smiled at Chris's groan as he pressed the heel of his hand against the bulge straining Chris's trousers.

Even with being able to see what he was doing, it still took Leonard a moment to gain access. Totally Chris's fault, of course---strong fingers kneading the back of Leonard's neck were somewhat distracting. But finally he was able to grasp Chris's cock in an eager hand.

There was plenty of fluid already leaking a thin stream down the shaft. Leonard smeared the precum before beginning a steady grip, pull, twist. He used his other hand on Chris's hip to hold his lover in place. Thumb brushing the edge of Chris's treasure trail.

"That's it," Leonard murmured, "that's right." He could feel the tension building in Chris's frame, the faint tremble of muscles growing taut.

Leonard leaned up and reclaimed Chris's lips. Kept stroking and teasing, putting to use some of the lessons he'd learned about Chris's body over their weeks together.

Chris clamped one hand on Leonard's shoulder and another on the back of his neck as Chris lifted into the strokes, his hips pumping as he spilled into Leonard's hand and groaned into Leonard's mouth.

When Chris sank back onto the cushions, Leonard sat up with a smile. He lifted his cum-slick hand. Watched Chris through half-lowered lashes as Leonard began to delicately lick the cum from his palm.

The clasp on the back of his neck became a tickle as Chris went back to teasing fingertips along Leonard's nape. Chris's voice was rough as he gave Leonard a small smile. "You..."

"Yeah." After a few moments of mutual staring, Leonard fastened Chris's clothing, stood up, and double-checked his own. Then he leaned back down and pressed a last smacking kiss to Chris's smiling mouth.

Leonard whistled all the way back to his room.


	7. Chapter 7

The next day...

Phyll clasped her hands behind her head and leaned back in her desk chair. "I think that covers it. If you're able to wrap those things up before you leave, we just may survive your absence."

Leonard made a few more notes on his PADD as he debated a course of action. With the decisive punch of a button he shut down the device and looked up. "I haven't figured out yet if I'm pissed or grateful, but why'd you announce the mission during dinner? I was gonna handle it."

A scrunch of eyebrows preceded Phyll's response. "Couldn't help it. Chris and Selena were making noises about the holidays and you got this 'terrified squirrel' look on your face. I hadn't seen that since you found a way to deal with your aviaphobia and---it just slipped out."

Leonard hmphed and stared at his darkened screen. He was a mite perturbed at the cute and fuzzy factor of the comparison. But he also knew Phyll had done her best behind the scenes to smooth the way for him until he got used to Starfleet protocol---and got somewhat of a hold on his wayward tongue and temper. "OK."

"Len." Phyll's suddenly serious tone had Leonard looking up. She dropped her hands to desk and studied him with the same expression she had while considering a tricky diagnosis. "I don't know that you need the warning, but as I said to Chris I'm delivering it to both of you: Don't screw this up."

Leonard bristled, but before he could open his mouth Phyll waved him back down.

"Easy---don't get your undies in a twist." Phyll walked around her desk and dropped into the other visitor's chair. "I've known Chris a long time. And while I haven't known you as long, I think I can safely say that you'd never shirk a responsibility or deliberately set out to hurt someone. That's not the issue."

She paused. "Sometimes things happen---even when you don't expect or wish them to. I just want you to know that however things turn out, you have a place in Starfleet. That won't change...and neither will my high regard for you."

Leonard blinked at the unexpected sentimentality. He appreciated knowing that his good opinion of Phyll was reciprocated. He cleared his throat. "Thanks."

Phyll's eyes got that mischievous twinkle that never boded well for the cadets. "In the interests of full disclosure, last night I also was trying to prevent a diplomatic incident. Selena's got it into her head to have a blowout holiday bash, and I didn't want you to turn her down."

"Because you'd have to deal with the fallout?" Leonard asked with a wry lift of eyebrow.

Phyll nodded. "Exactly."

Leonard's eyes narrowed. "Seems to me that was more your healthy sense of *self*-preservation than any consideration for my well-being."

A pat on the knee accompanied Phyll's response. "I always said you were a bright boy."

***************  
***************

A month later...

Chris just stepped out of the lecture hall when he noticed Spock. His former Second Officer and soon-to-be First Officer stood with hands clasped behind a perfectly straight back as Spock studied a mural of the Horsehead Nebula adorning one of the corridor walls.

Some would say Spock was waiting with typical Vulcan passivity, but Chris knew Spock well enough to read the slight tension in shoulders and knees. The glint in dark brown eyes when Spock turned confirmed it.

Chris walked up, adjusting his bag over his shoulder. "What can I do for you, Spock?"

The sunlight streaming through the glass ceiling picked out blue highlights in the deep black of Spock's traditional bowl cut as Spock tilted his head. "I intend to make a somewhat personal inquiry."

That had Chris intrigued as well as slightly perturbed. "Is this a walking conversation or a sitting one?"

As expected, Spock already had an answer to the familiar question. "Perambulation will not affect our discourse."

"Good." Chris led the way onto the campus. The dry grass and brisk wind were typical of the end of the year. "So...what's on your mind?"

Spock easily kept pace. "I wish to better understand your bond with Medical Cadet McCoy."

An effort of will kept Chris's expression serene. He shouldn't be surprised. Even after years among them, Spock still found it hard to grasp most human idiosyncrasies. "What exactly do you wanna know?"

"Your reasons for choosing McCoy as your mate." The centimeter depth of Spock's frown spoke of considerable pondering. "He is male, so reproduction is not an obvious motive. He is a medical cadet, so your work interests do not overlap to any significant degree."

Spock paused. "While McCoy presents an outward appearance that meets a high percentage of aesthetic parameters, physical appeal and sexual compatibility do not seem in and of themselves a sufficient explanation for your congress. Especially considering that if reports are true, McCoy does not possess the most genial personality---nor does he keep the best company."

Chris spent a few strides crafting his answer. He hadn't deeply probed the nature of his attraction to McCoy. He sometimes marveled at knowing Leonard had chosen him. Other times he feared all his warnings to himself to be careful had been of little use---his heart was as thoroughly entangled as a skein of yarn in a kitten's paws.

He decided to tackle the easiest part of the equation first. "If you're referring to Jim Kirk, Leonard is not the only one invested in his future."

Spock's tone was calm, though the words suggested less sang-froid than Spock perhaps wished to convey. "That Kirk is still a student of the Academy is remarkable, if only in the extent of the machinations both you and Cadet McCoy---as well as others---have employed to keep him here."

"We trust our faith in Kirk will be fulfilled." Chris waved a hand. "Sometimes you have to look beyond the surface for your answers."

Spock slowed, stopped. His eyes searched Chris's. "Is that what you have done with Cadet McCoy?"

"Perhaps." Chris cast his gaze around the campus blend of traditional and contemporary architecture framed by the carefully maintained Academy gardens. Cadets, officers, and civilians dashed about, busy with their lives. He thought about the years he'd spent here without Leonard, and how different the last few months had been with him.

Spock took a half-step forward, voice marginally more insistent. "But would not the more logical course of action be to set aside this inappropriate attraction in favor of a more suitable companion?"

Chris eyed Spock a moment before shrugging. "Leonard and I aren't Vulcans, Spock. Maybe our pairing isn't the most logical choice to an outsider. But we're building connections between us---shared interests, similar outlooks and experiences. And whatever differences of opinion that we clash over or quirks of personality that irritate us are nothing compared to how right we feel together---at least, how right it feels to *me* to be with Leonard."

Spock started to shake his head, stilled the motion. "It is illogical---"

"But completely true." Chris leaned in to tease, "Maybe you'll experience it yourself someday."

The almost-expression that ghosted across Spock's face made Chris wonder if Spock already had.

Spock offered no other clue to his thoughts. He simply gave a single, slow nod. "Thank you for your time, Captain."

Chris watched Spock depart using a less-than-efficient stride. Eventually he turned toward his own destination: Leonard's dorm room.

The medical cadets were, unsurprisingly, boarded in the residence building closest to the Academy hospital. Whether by luck---or some admin's acknowledgement of Leonard's maturity---Leonard had a small single room on the quieter side of the second floor.

Chris was never a regular visitor, but he'd been there often enough to murmur greetings to a few of Leonard's neighbors as he made his way down the hall.

He smiled to himself as he reached Leonard's door and pushed a button beside the code pad. A quick scan later, the door was sliding open for him.

A chuckle stirred the air of Leonard's room as Chris recalled Leonard describing Jim's indignation that *Chris* had been granted a biocode entry while Jim still had to ring the buzzer to gain access.

Chris set down his bag and assessed the space. Leonard was almost pathologically neat---a relic of the days following his mother's death, "tryin' to give his dad as little cause for trouble as possible". So Chris had little to do beyond watering the plants and occasional dusting.

He first filled the watering can and performed his appointed rounds. All of the green and growing things seemed to be surviving OK. Most of them had offshoots transplanted to Chris's quarters.

Otherwise, though, the room seemed almost painfully bare. A few knicknacks. The most prominent item was a single picture in a beautifully carved wooden frame on Leonard's nightstand. A copy of the image Chris had seen on Joanna McCoy's grave.

Chris pulled a soft cloth out of his bag and walked over to it. He carefully removed all traces of dust from the image and frame. Only after it was safely back on a cleaned surface did he tackle the other pieces of furniture in the room. It didn't take long for him to finish.

At the doorway, Chris once more surveyed Leonard's domain. The lack of mementos seemed strange in a room belonging to so sentimental a man.

But there was something Chris could---and would---do about it. He just hoped Leonard would appreciate the late Solstice gift as much as he had the early one.

***************  
***************

The same day...

Leonard wrinkled his nose at the stench of musk and orange blossom and hastily set the bottle of perfume back on the shelf of the space station's gift shop.

"She's not the 'L'Amour de Savannah' type?" Christine Chapel was a good sort---not to mention a top-notch nurse---but her amusement at Leonard's predicament was startin' to get on his nerves.

"Even if she was, no way I'm gonna taint the air of San Francisco with that 'Eau de Stink'."

Christine made a noncommittal sound and beckoned him down another aisle. "Explain to me why you're getting a present for a woman you barely know."

"She's doin' me a favor---a big one." Uhura had surprised Leonard with her easy agreement to keep Jim occupied during the gap between Leonard's departure and the arrival of Jim's mother.

Leonard hadn't wanted to ask Chris. Chris kept mum about Leonard's "Jim-sitting", but his eyebrow spoke volumes.

Meeting Uhura had been serendipity. Leonard stopped by Gaila's quarters, hoping the Orion cadet might be willing to use her wiles in a worthy cause. He found Gaila's roommate instead.

The two of them chatted over a cup of red tea chai. As Leonard's free time ran out, Uhura had offered to do more than convey Leonard's request. She actually suggested *she* be Jim's unofficial "wingman" for the duration.

Leonard had readily accepted the offer. He knew Jim never lost interest in the classy, enigmatic Comms cadet. Leonard still didn't know what Uhura's small smile meant when she said that she sympathized with Leonard's "delicate situation" dating Chris.

Christine's call snapped Leonard out of his musings and back on his mission. If worst came to worst, he supposed he could give Uhura the present he was making for Chris. But truth to tell, he'd put a lot of effort into the gift and didn't want it to go anywhere but into Chris's keeping.

It was an improvement, of sorts. That instead of cataloging all the "eccentricities" that might someday cause Chris to wash his hands of Leonard, he was putting his time into something that suggested they were gonna be together for the long haul. But before he could get back to it, he still had some shopping to do...

He smiled as he saw the box Christine was waving like a victory flag. The gibberish on the cover was likely Klingon, given the hulking figure perched above a pile of bloody corpses.

Leonard would be halfway tempted to crack the case himself, just to find out what Klingon opera sounded like.

Instead, he accepted the perfect gift for Uhura with a smile and nod. "You're a life-saver, Christine."

The blonde's eyes twinkled bright enough to match her grin. "So what're you gonna buy *me* for doing you this favor?"

He snorted. "How about some 'Eau de Stink'?"


	8. Chapter 8

A few days after New Year's...

Chris had no warning. He was passing the door when he heard the chime and waved it open.

Brynn stood there.

He blinked, struck dumb for the moment.

She had changed little in the passing years. Age was sharpening rather than softening the angles of jaw and cheekbone. Her hair was the same carefully tamed wave of brown, her eyes a wary blue. "Hello, Chris."

"Brynn." Chris stepped back. "Uh, come on in."

Chris noted that Brynn's gold command tunic still held her commander's stripes. "You set for tomorrow?"

"I think so." Stern lips quirked in the hint of a smile as Brynn glanced at him over her shoulder. "I hope so."

He waved Brynn to the couch and headed to the square of counter he used as a makeshift bar. It took only a moment to find Brynn's favorite brand of gin.

His lifted brows were answered with a nod as Brynn settled on the couch. He quickly crafted a gin and tonic, adding ice from the freezer unit and a twist of lime. He skipped the gin in his own.

Brynn leaned forward to accept the glass, cool fingers brushing his. "Abstaining?"

"For the moment. Actually, I'm hoping to celebrate a reunion later." Chris settled into a chair.

Brynn hummed an acknowledgement as she swallowed. "Leonard, right?"

"Yes." He let the silence hold for a beat. "How about you?"

"Well, I'm not abstaining." Brynn lifted one shoulder. "But there's no one in particular at the moment."

Ironic, the awkward silence that fell. Chris could remember evenings on the Fortitude, playing Go and discussing politics with Brynn until the next shift rolled around.

That was before Talos IV.

Chris set aside his glass and leaned forward, his elbows braced on his thighs. "How are you, Brynn?"

"I'm OK." That small smile again. "Chris, it wasn't the end of the world."

He huffed a laugh. "I never claimed I was the be-all and end-all of anybody's existence---least of all yours."

"Well, I know I wasn't yours. Y'think that was part of the problem?" Brynn drew one leg up onto the couch, knee propping up the arm holding her glass. Her expression seemed to be one of genuine curiosity.

Chris didn't know. The stars had been the most lasting romance of his life. He'd stayed with ships longer than he'd stayed with any lover.

He was sure he would ache if and when Leonard ever decided the gaps between them---age, career plans, attitude---could no longer be bridged. But he knew he'd be able to go on, just as he had after every other break-up in his life.

But it would be a long while before he wanted to.

"I think we just weren't meant to be." Chris tilted his head and considered the woman before him. All he knew of her, and what he didn't want to remember about himself. "But I wish we ended better---I wish we ended friends."

"Me too." Brynn swished the ice in her glass. Stared at it as she spoke. "But that's not the way it went."

"No." Chris ran a hand through his hair. "Back then, you said 'sorry' wouldn't change anything. But I am sorry. And I know that I will never, ever make those kinds of mistakes with anyone else ever again. Because losing you from my life changed it, changed me."

He sighed. "Probably doesn't make a bit of difference...but I wanted you to know."

Brynn stared at him for a long, long moment. Then she offered her small smile. "You know what? I think it does."

Chris knew they might never be as close as they once were, but it was a place to start.

***************  
***************

That evening...

Leonard warily stepped from the shuttle. He knew danger when he saw it. "What's happened?"

Selena lifted a finely plucked eyebrow. "What makes you think something's happened?"

"I'm not in the habit of bein' greeted by Security---at least not when I'm *by myself*." There'd been a few times he'd been dragged into Jim's scrapes, but that hadn't happened in a while, either.

"Do I look like I'm on duty?" Selena asked with a "use your eyes, stupid" gesture at her ensemble.

Leonard had to admit that thigh-high leather boots, skin-tight leggings, and a slinky crimson shirt topped with a black topcoat were not exactly regulation. "Uh, no."

Selena hmphed and elbowed past him to grab his bags from the cart alongside the shuttle berth.

"Hey---careful with that one!" Leonard snatched back one case, cradling it protectively. He *thought* he'd packed everything carefully, but it wouldn't do to smash Chris's gift now that he actually had a chance to give it to the man.

"Oooh, presents?" Selena leaned in, ripe lips ghosting a breath past his ear. "Naughty, kinky presents?"

Leonard rolled his eyes and started out of the hangar. "*No*. How long've you been married, again?"

"Not nearly long enough," Selena retorted as she fell into step. "Like it or not, Len, you were made for wicked things."

Leonard jumped at the firm pinch to one buttock. Could feel the flush starting in his cheeks and spreading up and down, painting his face bright red. "You're a goddamned menace, woman."

Selena only laughed and linked an arm with his. Two fairly heavy bags swung nonchalantly from her other shoulder.

He slowed, looking down at her. "Seriously, everything's OK?"

She stopped, brown eyes softening. "Yes, everything---and everyone---is OK. I'm just here to make sure you're delivered safely."

Leonard grunted and started up again, not totally convinced. "How was your Solstice party?"

"A complete success, of course." Selena giggled. "Barnett got totally blasted and started improvising dirty limericks about the Academy brass."

"Sorry I missed it." A surprising truth. No surprise at all that he'd missed Chris. "Uh, my room's that way." He pointed out the obvious.

"And Chris is wearing holes in the carpet this way." Selena tugged Leonard toward the professors' building, her grip as surprisingly strong as always. He could probably break it, but Leonard wasn't all that sure he wouldn't sprain something of his own in the process.

"So why didn't he come meet me himself?" Leonard tried not to pout. After all, he wasn't some starry-eyed git about to throw himself into his lover's arms in front of the entire campus.

"Couldn't get away." Selena tugged Leonard along, waving off his other questions like a woman on a mission.

The walk through the slight chill of evening helped Leonard get used to being on solid ground again. All those weeks in the artificial gravity had left his legs a mite unsteady.

Selena slowed as they reached Chris's door. She positioned Leonard squarely under the scanner and pushed the button to activate it.

The all clear sounded and the door slid open.

Next thing Leonard knew he was flying through the doorway, his bag plucked from his grip along the way.

Just as well as he stumbled into another body. "Shit!"

"Watch your mouth, boy." Lamont's twinkling eyes startled Leonard upright.

His hands automatically checked for damage to his victim. Took him a moment to regain control of his jaw. "Lamont? What're you doin' here?"

Leonard hadn't seen his father's old friend since the day Lamont enlisted Leonard into Starfleet to keep him out of jail.

Lamont batted Leonard's hands away and pulled him into a quick hug. "Spreadin' some holiday cheer, of course."

The lights in Chris's quarters got a little blurry until Leonard firmly blinked and set aside the rush of nostalgia. "How---?"

"Let's just say your beau can be a most persuasive fellow. Perhaps you might like to extend to him a holiday greeting?" The older man's cane pointed directly to where Chris was leaning near the entryway to the kitchen.

A smile hovered on Chris's lips, but there was a clear question in his eyes. Leonard could understand it. He had shared some of his personal history with Chris, but that didn't guarantee that a ghost of holidays past would be a welcome visitor.

He strolled over and paused a breath away. "Just what've you been up to?"

"Well, you missed Phyll and Selena's big bash, so I thought you might enjoy a small get-together to welcome you home." Chris lifted a hand to Leonard's face. "Welcome home."

After a breath, Leonard took a quick glance around. Picked out Phyll, Jim, Selena, Christine, and a few other folks he'd gotten friendly with over the years. One woman he recognized from Chris's pictures of the Fortitude crew. He tilted his head toward Lamont. "And him?"

"Oh, he brought you a Solstice present." The glint in Chris's eyes matched his sly grin. "Nothing like your first one, though."

Leonard snorted. "Damned well better not be."

"Come here, Leonard, don't keep an old man waitin' on you." Lamont had relocated to Chris's desk, where two large storage containers now rested.

Leonard stepped over, throwing Chris a questioning glance. It was met with a slight shrug and another small smile.

When he reached the desk, Lamont patted him on the shoulder. "Now listen. I have a message from all your kith and kin: Folks couldn't shift their schedules, but you're bein' duly warned: No more playin' the black sheep. There will be comms, and visits---and you are forthwith expected to remember birthdays and send appropriate words of felicitation. I have a list."

Leonard cleared his throat. He'd ignored all contacts from old friends and even what was left of his family. First too grief-stricken, then too ashamed. Hiding out had become a habit. "OK."

His fingers trembled a little as he opened the lid on the first container. Breath caught in wonder as one of Joanna's baby pictures smiled up at him.

In a daze, he sifted through the contents: Images of Joanna, him, and Joss; his parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, nieces, nephews, friends...and copies of all those old-time photos and family histories that he'd inherited at his father's death and handed off to the family historian.

His great-unto generations-grandfather's antique microscope. Leather-bound books that he thought never to see again. His boyhood treasure chest. A quilt woven by his Gran. His mother's recipe box and his father's stack of real-paper cookbooks.

"I---I don't---" Leonard shook his head, ducked to swipe a sleeve at damp eyes. "How'd this all get here?"

Lamont's expression softened. "Jocelyn kept them safe for you. Even as mad as she was, she recognized that she had no right to things that were never hers and that you had a share in things that were yours together. Your fine friend set himself to makin' her see that it was time to let them come back to you."

Leonard swallowed. He'd never let himself dwell on how empty his quarters---his life---had been.

But he was damned grateful for how full it was now.

"C'mon Bones, what's in the other box?" Jim's index fingers played a drum solo on the unopened container.

Lamont supplied the answer with a shrug. "Clothes and other odds and ends. Your time would be better spent, boy, fetching me another glass of that fine bourbon." A prod of his cane in Jim's back emphasized the order as the two made for the bottles.

Chris strolled up with two of said bourbons, handing one off to Leonard. "You need some time alone, or you wanna join the party?"

Leonard accepted the drink and clinked his glass with Chris's. "*We* need some time alone. But that can wait---for the moment."

With a glance, Leonard found Selena holding his case and gestured her over as he set down his glass. She handed off the bag with an elaborate flourish that got her an eye-roll and a shove toward her chuckling wife.

Leonard set the case on top of the desk chair. He opened it and rummaged around, knowing each carefully swathed package by weight and feel. His fingers closed around one in particular. "Here we are."

He turned, took Chris's glass, and placed the package in Chris's hands. "For you."

Chris's delighted smile came before he even attempted to open it. With care, long fingers unfastened the seal, then unwound the layers of protective coverings.

"Oh." The word came out in a soft breath as Chris's eyes came up to meet Leonard's. "You made this, didn't you?"

At the center was a standard holo-display. But it was encased in a wooden frame, carved with shapes that were the echoes of stars and starships, desert flowers and vines, merging and separating in an endless loop. Sanded to a satin feel, polished and gleaming.

"I, uh, had some help with the pictures." Leonard shifted to stand beside Chris and switched it on. Images of the two of them, alone, together, and with their various friends cycled through. Most of the shots he'd gotten from Phyll, others he'd surreptitiously copied from Chris's own collection. A few they'd taken of each other over the months, catching unguarded moments.

"Thank you." Chris's voice had that soft, deep timbre that always set off a burst of warmth in Leonard's chest. Chris's fingers stroked his jaw as Chris leaned in for a kiss.

That first kiss was soft and sweet. The second one after Chris put down his gift was something else entirely. Leonard---and it seemed Chris---remembered that they'd spent far too long apart.

He growled a little when Chris finally pushed him back. Then shook his head and remembered his guests.

But first Leonard leaned in to whisper in Chris's ear, "Got another present for you---later."


	9. Chapter 9

Spring, Leonard's last semester at the Academy...

"I'm beginnin' to think it's pathological." Leonard stopped his pacing to peer at Chen's fish tank. The occupants ignored him, swimming lazily throughout their domain.

"Chronic, certainly." Chen's voice suggested a shrug. "But you've known that for more than two years. Why is it a problem now?"

"'Cause the chickens have come home to roost." Leonard pivoted and made his way over to his usual chair.

Flung himself into it with a grunt. "Jim's blown me off a few too many times lately. Even today---told him that I was too busy for another round of 'Die, stupid cadets, Die!' in the sim chamber. Don't know what the hell I was there for in the first place---I'm a doctor, not some shoot-'em-up security officer. And what did Jim do? Put me on standby for a *third* go-round. Gonna play havoc with my schedule."

Chen lifted an eyebrow. "Admittedly, that kind of self-centeredness is annoying. But why do you think it proves that smoothing Jim's way through the Academy has become a problem for *you*?"

"Because when Jim calls me to show up, I'll drop everything and go---I can't seem to stop." It was a hard admission, one Leonard had been wrestling with since that first night Chris brought it up.

"And why is that?" A natural follow-up question from Chen.

"I don't know." Not exactly true. Leonard tried again. "Because I don't know what'll happen to the kid if I don't."

Dark eyes studied him. "What exactly are you afraid of?"

A familiar chill slid down Leonard's spine. "I don't---"

"What are you afraid of, Leonard?" Chen stood up, rested hands on the arms of Leonard's chair.

Leonard could feel his heartbeat pick up, breathing shallow. "I don't---"

Chen was practically in his face now. "What?"

"Everything!" Leonard pushed Chen back and leapt out of the chair again. Did his crazy pace around the office to try to calm down. To knock that big, nebulous, black fear into something he could explain. "I don't *know*. It's just, if something happens to that kid because *I* didn't prevent it, then..."

He shuddered. "I can't let that happen. I can't lose another---he's just a kid."

"No, he's not." Chen sat and shifted to face Leonard. "Jim is an adult, responsible for his own choices. And their consequences. You know that, Leonard: Jim's not a kid. He's not a child."

"I know that," Leonard snapped.

"Then perhaps you need to ask yourself whether your taking responsibility for Jim's actions is really the right thing to do----whether it's really in Jim's best interest. Or yours."

Leonard sank into his seat. Let his hands dangle between his knees as he stared at the carpet. He sighed and didn't say another word that session.

***************  
***************

A few days later...

Chris let himself into his quarters, his PADD clutched tightly in one hand. Just inside, he paused to breathe in the smell of something tomato-based simmering and just enjoy the space that had become more of a home over the last few months.

He was careful to never let on just how thrilled he was that Leonard kept some of his "care package" from Georgia here. More than half of the clothes were in Chris's drawers and closet. The microscope rested on a shelf, along with some of the books and photo albums---and of course the imager in its carved frame. The treasure chest was tucked safely in one of the bedroom nightstands, the one Leonard had claimed with a copy of his daughter's picture.

All of the cookbooks and the recipe box had also stayed, of course. But Leonard expanded his presence into a line of herb pots on the windowsills, along with a blender and a dehydrator that Leonard used to produce "healthier than that synthesized crap" snacks.

Chris moved into the bedroom and stopped short. The afternoon sun turned the bed into a golden rectangle. A gloriously naked Leonard was sprawled on his stomach in the center of it. He was facing the foot of the bed but hadn't noticed Chris's entrance.

Red and gold highlights lightened brown hair as Leonard lifted an arm to run a hand through it. Then that arm went back to its original position, crossed under Leonard's chin. From his fierce glare at the PADD propped in front of him, it was not pleasant reading.

"More clinic records?" Chris asked. Phyll had set Leonard as supervisor for some of the junior staff, and from all reports he was whipping them into shape. Unfortunately, the term was almost literal. Phyll was trying to get Leonard to, if not ease up on the newcomers, at least try to use a more tactful approach to criticism.

As Phyll put it, "If Len doesn't learn that he's not allowed to scare 'em all off, the head of the hospital is gonna chain him to a biobed and make *him* cover all the shifts those cadets were supposed to handle."

Leonard looked up, his frown slowly shifting to a smile. "Hey darlin'. Yeah. I hope I was never this thick-headed."

"What do y'mean 'was'?" Chris sauntered over and dropped his head for a quick kiss before settling on the bed. He ran a hand down Leonard's sun-warmed back, feeling Leonard shiver beneath his touch. "Is this an invitation?"

Leonard gave a cat-eyed glance over his shoulder. "What d'you think?"

It had taken a while to get to a full physical relationship, but Chris certainly thought it had been worth the wait. He found it a little amusing how eager Leonard was to bend Chris over something---and Leonard's skill would soon be on par with his enthusiasm.

As for the other side of the equation... "Mmmm---I hope so." Chris let his hand drift to cup one firm buttock as he once more met Leonard's lips in a kiss. Leonard's mouth opened beneath his, and Chris delved into the warmth and welcome. Moaned at the clench of Leonard's fingers in his hair and got lost in the rising heat between them.

By the time they parted for panting breaths, Leonard had rolled onto his back and pulled Chris on top of him. Leonard's hands fisted in Chris's uniform.

Leonard nuzzled Chris's neck, licked at the skin just above Chris's collar. "You...naked...lube."

Chris bit back a moan when Leonard nipped him before shoving him toward the head of the bed. Chris stood and swiftly undressed, noting that Leonard had rolled again to grab both PADDs and set them carefully on Chris's nightstand.

Of course they kept lube on both sides of the bed---along with a few other places. He pulled a tube from Leonard's drawer and paused a moment.

Leonard had settled again on his back, lightly stroking his cock as he watched Chris with hungry eyes. His tongue flashed out to lick ripe lips, setting Chris in motion.

He raised one knee to the bed, stretching to brace on one arm. He settled onto his side, his free hand stroking the long line of Leonard's body from broad shoulder and powerful chest to narrow waist and hips and those long thighs that looked good in jeans but even better out of them.

Leonard arched into the touch with a low moan, abandoning his cock for a grip on Chris's ribs. He leaned up and captured Chris's mouth with his own, drawing them both down to lay fully on the bed.

The sun spread its heat along Chris's back as he pressed into Leonard's warmth. He lifted his head, braced on his elbows. Stared down into Leonard's flushed face. The shadows that lurked in Leonard's eyes were banished for the moment by desire. And maybe something more, something hinted at in the slow slide of Leonard's hands along Chris's sides, in the tender curve of Leonard's mouth.

Words hovered on Chris's tongue. Things he wanted Leonard to know---things that Chris never knew about himself. Things that he was afraid to admit.

Instead he dipped his head to press a kiss to the center of Leonard's chest, to scrape his teeth along the smooth skin to one nipple already hard and waiting for the torment of his mouth.

Shuddered as Leonard's blunt nails dug in and scraped lines down his sides and back, just enough pressure to make him lose his own breath. "Fuck."

"*Yes*," Leonard answered, and it held more than a hint of a command.

Chris glanced up to see the smile lurking on Leonard's face. "Yes, sir." A swift check of the bedding got him the lube. He shifted into the space created by Leonard's widening thighs.

Groaned at the brush of their cocks, momentarily distracted into thrusting a few times against Leonard. Then he slicked his fingers and delivered the tube into Leonard's waiting hand. Shuddered anew a moment later at Leonard's slick, strong grip sliding up and down Chris's cock, teasing and coating all at once. Making Chris long to plunge deep into Leonard's core. Claim Leonard the way he felt held entranced by his lover.

But this was not something to be rushed---not here, now. So Chris watched Leonard's face as he used the back of his hand to tease the inside of one thigh, then the other. To see the hitch and pant of breath as Chris's knuckles caught ever so slightly against Leonard's sac on the way behind it.

The heat gathered in the crease of Leonard's body eased slightly as Leonard lifted one leg to bend at the knee. Making more room for Chris to explore. Chris's fingertips traced the waiting entrance before sliding in. First one, then another, adding slickness to the deeper heat waiting for him.

Leonard's eyelids fluttered, long lashes sliding down as his mouth dropped open for a soft moan. His head tilted back, offering his long throat to Chris's mouth.

Chris accepted the invitation. Set his teeth at the juncture of neck and shoulder, just enough pressure to distract Leonard from any discomfort as Chris slid his cock along the channel between Leonard's buttocks and then inside.

Felt the vibration of Leonard's moan under his lips. Kept moving, slowly but always forward until he was all the way inside, bodies joined tightly together. "OK?"

"Mmmm..." Leonard's hum had deepened into almost a purr. The lift of his hips confirmed his welcome. He wrapped his arms around Chris's back, urging Chris upward into another kiss.

Chris's eyes closed as his tongue mated with Leonard's, as he began an almost lazy slide out and in. Felt like he could do this all afternoon, twined with Leonard in the golden light.

He gave a breathless sort of chuckle when Leonard's wandering fingertips dipped into the pool of sweat gathering at the small of his back. He braced on his elbows again, pulling back just enough to share breath.

Leonard responded with a small smile. Tickled him again---the tease. Chris responded with stronger, harder thrusts, welcomed the shift even closer as Leonard wrapped both legs around his hips and held on.

He felt Leonard's leaking cock painting his skin with every stroke. Shifted enough to reach one hand between their bodies to grasp Leonard's hard length. Started pulling in time with his thrusts, sweeping his thumb over the damp head and just underneath the ridge. Wanting that moment when Leonard let go and became completely his.

Then it came---Leonard's eyes widened as he bit his lip, hips surging up and channel clenching down as his release pulsed over Chris's hand and between them.

Chris smiled and pressed his lips to Leonard's for a moment before pulling back and surrendering to his own release, pushing deep, deep, to spend himself inside his lover.

And if he ever found the courage to admit it, his love.

***************  
***************

Leonard shook the last drips from his hair as he made his way across the bedroom, taking a sip from one of the glasses of wine chilling his fingers.

He grinned at Chris's frank perusal as he continued toward the bed. "Like what you see?"

"Always." The wicked glint in Chris's eyes as he sat propped against the pillows made promises Leonard was eager to see him keep---later.

"Not until after dinner---which will be ready in about 20 minutes." Leonard handed over the other glass and slid onto the mattress. He held his own wine aloft as he unabashedly plastered himself to Chris's side.

Chris teased him about his "catlike tendencies", but Leonard was reminded why he didn't care when Chris's fingers started sliding through his hair in a soothing stroke along his scalp.

Leonard let the cool, sweet wine roll around his mouth for a moment before swallowing. It was moments like this that made him hope that he and Chris would last---beyond the Academy, even beyond Starfleet.

That he was right to put his faith in Chris and in them together. Even if he was too chicken-shit to ever come right out and say it. 

After a few minutes of enjoyment, Leonard let his brain come back online. He knew that Chris was under a lot of pressure as the end of the semester approached. "So how was your day?"

The sudden rise in the heartbeat beneath his cheek had Leonard sitting up. "Chris?"

"You just reminded me---I have something for you." Chris twisted enough to set his glass of wine on the nightstand and pulled over his PADD.

"OK." Leonard shifted to sit cross-legged facing Chris. The first few times they'd done this---shared wine or coffee or some conversation while lazing around buck naked---Leonard had blushed clear to the roots of his hair.

Right now, though, he was too wary to feel self-conscious.

"Look, Leonard, I don't want you to think I'm trying to push you into anything---trust me when I say I would *never* do that or want that." Chris's fingers traveled up and down the sides of the PADD in an uncharacteristic, nervous gesture.

"OK." Leonard said again. He could feel his brows drawing together, tried to smooth them out and appear ready for anything.

"OK, well, Phyll gave me the official confirmation today. I wanted to wait until then, so you knew this has everything to do with you bein' the best of the best and not any other, um, considerations." Chris's gaze darted to Leonard, then dropped back to his PADD.

Leonard set aside his own wine. "Um...what the hell're you talkin' about?"

Chris blinked, seemed to focus. "The rankings and assignments of the medical cadets. I'm not sure if you're aware of it, but you're so far ahead of your colleagues that even if you flunk every test and assignment from now 'til graduation, you'll still be the top student in the Medical track."

A laugh huffed out of Leonard before he thought about it. "Well it doesn't hurt that I have years of experience over most of those other poor bastards tryin' to learn to be doctors *and* figure out Starfleet protocols."

A quick smile greeted Leonard's observation, but then Chris sobered. "The point is, Leonard, that you've earned a place on Enterprise. If you want it."

"Well of course I want it. You think I'd ship out with anybody else?" Leonard felt the quick flash of panic that always came with the thought of bein' out in the black. But he took a breath and leveled down the way he'd learned to do---the way Chris had helped him learn to do---so many months ago.

Chris's mouth curved in a quick grin, but his brows drew together as he stared down at the PADD once more. "I was hopin' you'd say that. Because---"

He stopped, swallowed. "Because I'd like you to consider being more than just a crewmate. Officially."

Leonard instinctively grasped the PADD that was shoved into his hands. He flicked on the screen and stared at the form displayed. "Domestic Partnership Agreement" in bold letters across the top.

Chris's half had already been filled in and authenticated. The document pretty much stated that Chris appointed Leonard as his legal and medical proxy for the duration of the agreement and that Leonard had automatic access to Chris's quarters on any ship or other bivouac. It also guaranteed that Chris would be automatically posted with Leonard---wherever that posting would be.

It was...it wasn't marriage or anything like that---anything that Leonard didn't feel ready for by a long shot. But it was something he definitely could and wanted to live with. And more than he'd been lettin' himself expect, if not hope for.

He looked up at Chris. "Yes."

Chris's smile was as bright as the sunshine still gleaming through the windows. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." Leonard reviewed his section, made his choices and set his authentication with an extra firm press of the screen.

With deliberate care he sent off the form and set the PADD aside. Then he grabbed the back of Chris's neck and hauled him in for one hell of a "thank you" kiss.

Seemed that dinner could wait after all.


	10. Chapter 10

During the Narada Incident...

Leonard had barely been able to comprehend losing Chris---having his lover walk away to pretty much certain death. That Leonard himself had escaped the swathe of destruction that rained down on Sickbay barely registered. More important was the loss of his former classmates, fellow medical staff, and his boss.

He hadn't gotten to know Doctor Puri well, but the CMO's death still left a void that Leonard was struggling to fill. He could only be grateful that Phyll and Selena had been off-planet and unavailable for the Fleet scramble in response to Vulcan's distress call.

Then Jim was gone---Leonard tried to talk to Spock, but to no avail. And then suddenly Jim was back in a strange bit of serendipity that Leonard didn't quite grasp.

Now Jim was gone *again*, and Spock too. Off on a rescue mission that Leonard could only hope would bring three men back safe and sound.

All the universe stilled when he saw Chris rematerialize on the transporter pad.

He snapped into doctor mode. Rushed forward to take Chris's weight, to haul Chris off to the Sickbay and find out just what the hell that tattooed madman had done.

Chris had a hollowness to him that jolted Leonard each time he looked over into Chris's face. As if the short span of time they'd been apart had rendered Chris a stranger.

His free hand was holding a med scanner---he was trying to comprehend the readings as well as navigate through the crowded corridors. "What the hell---y'got somethin' *inside* you?"

"Slug." Chris's voice was a ragged breath of sound. "Clawed...toxin."

"Shit." More like *toxins*. A cocktail of crap that shouldn't be anywhere near a human body, much less merrily circulating around it with every heartbeat.

He and Chris practically fell through the opening Sickbay doors. "Chapel!" Leonard yelled.

She was already running to him. "How bad---"

"We need a dialysis setup, stat." He shoved the scanner into her hands. "Something that will filter out this."

"Shit." Chapel frowned at the display, turned and dashed toward the area where they'd gathered all the surviving equipment and supplies.

Leonard hefted Chris onto a biobed. Gave his lover a moment to sit and absorb the situation while Leonard stepped close. "Chris."

Chris raised tired eyes to Leonard. One side of his mouth lifted a fraction. "Guess I won't be reaming you out for that stunt with Jim after all."

"Right now I don't give a good goddamn about anybody but you." Leonard took a breath. "You're dehydrated and shocky. Looks like the toxin levels are stable---I think that goddamn thing inside you is dead."

A slow nod confirmed it. "Nero shot something into it...said he couldn't afford to let it gnaw all the way through me. Wouldn't survive...he might...need to chat again."

Leonard gripped Chris's shoulder. Tried to keep his voice calm. "Listen, I can't give you anythin' except standard fluids until we suck that shit outta your blood. Once we have you clean and stable, we'll assess the situation and then get that goddamned thing out of you. OK?"

Chris nodded, sagged against Leonard as if finally letting himself believe he was safe.

"It's OK, darlin'," Leonard whispered as he eased Chris to lying down. "You rest."

As Chris's eyes closed, Leonard allowed himself one stroke through Chris's hair.

***************  
***************

Shortly after the warp core is ejected...

Chris took a breath and braced himself. "What if you do nothing?"

"Excuse me?" Leonard straightened. "What the hell do you mean?"

"Exactly what I asked." He shifted on the biobed, glad that he was raised to sitting. It at least gave him the illusion of strength. "I want to know all of my options."

"There are no other goddamned options!" Leonard glared at him from where he stood at the foot of the biobed, arms crossed. "That goddamned slug has its claws wrapped around your brain stem. From what Spock said, it's gonna keep clenching down the longer that corpse sits in there. If we don't take it out, it'll rip you apart."

"Why are we even discussing this?" Jim thrust himself into the discussion with an angry swipe of one arm. "You're the CMO, he's your patient. Just fucking do it."

"Have you even listened to anything Leonard said?" Chris let the anger take hold---it was easier to deal with than fear. "The only thing holding me together is the grip that thing has on me right now. Taking it out is only a little less damaging than leaving it in."

"Except leaving it in is a sure death sentence." Jim's eyes narrowed. "I never figured you for a coward."

Chris set his jaw. Jim had never known what it was to be absolutely powerless. Would never understand. "You don't need to be here, Jim. It's not a command decision."

"No---it's a medical one. And it's pretty clear you're not in your right mind at the moment." Jim turned toward Leonard. "Don't you agree, Bones?"

Leonard blinked and broke his steady glare to look at Jim. His forehead creased. "What?"

Jim stepped close, grabbed Leonard's arm to haul him around. "If you declare Pike incapacitated, that makes it your call, doesn't it?"

Pike bristled, but held his tongue at the look of anguish that crossed Leonard's face.

Leonard shook his head. "I can't do that, Jim."

"You can't let him throw away his only chance at life," Jim snapped.

Chris felt his lip curling. "Life as what, Jim? A fucking vegetable? An invalid who can't even lift up his head to suck his own drool back into his mouth?"

"It'll work out---I know it will." Jim set his hands on the end of the biobed, leaned in. "You can't do this---do *nothing*."

The blaze of Jim's eyes didn't really register as much as the sudden calm in Leonard's. Chris nodded toward Leonard, then focused on Jim. "Jim, I appreciate your optimism, but you need to leave. Leonard and I have things to discuss."

Neither he nor Leonard spoke until Jim shouldered his way out of Sickbay.

Leonard huffed. "He doesn't believe in a no-win scenario."

"I think the people of Vulcan would disagree." Chris winced at the bitterness in his own voice. He took a breath. "The odds aren't good, Leonard."

"So you won't even let me try?" Leonard stepped forward, perched on the biobed.

Chris watched as Leonard lifted his hand, twined their fingers together. He could feel both Leonard's strength and gentleness in the touch. "You don't need to be tied to a broken, old man."

Leonard opened his mouth, likely with an automatic protest. Instead, he slowly closed it. Stared at Chris for a long moment, hazel-green eyes sadder than Chris had ever seen them. "I wish I'd said it when I felt it."

"What?" Chris's brows drew together.

"I wish I'd said it when I felt it," Leonard said again. "When I fell in love with you, I wish I'd told you. Then you'd know that whatever Nero did, whatever happens, won't change a goddamned thing. Not really."

Leonard sighed, offered a rueful smile. "I fell in love sittin' beside you in a shuttle, rattlin' my bones with the shakes at the *thought* of actually bein' out here in the black."

Chris started to speak, was stopped by Leonard's finger on his lips.

Leonard's hand dropped, and his eyes dropped to where he was stroking his thumb back and forth over Chris's hand. "I fell in love with a man who admitted he'd been so scared as a kid of bein' lost in the desert he near pissed his pants after gettin' separated from his Cub Scout troop. With a man who could share with me a piece of Federation history that everyone and his cousin agrees on, then argue a completely cockeyed point of view just to see where the speculation will take him."

He looked up. "I fell in love with you, Chris, before Phyll commed me. Before we ever touched. But I was too chicken-shit to say anything 'cause I didn't wanna be in this by myself. But I promise you that I ain't gonna run away 'cause things get tough. I can promise you that."

Chris swallowed. Fought for control, clenching Leonard's hand in his. "Leonard, with you, I've been in so deep for so long I got used to the sensation of drowning. I love you more than I figured I could care about anyone, but I can't...if this doesn't work, if I end up...I can't live my life for you."

He paused. "It's not that I don't believe you're the best damn surgeon Starfleet has ever seen and that you'll do everything in your power to heal me. It's just---if you want me to give you that chance, that's not the promise I need from you."

Knew Leonard figured it out, just from the way Leonard's hand stilled against his own. Chris nodded. "I don't want to end up trapped in my own body, no hope of recovery or even escape. I've lived through that twice now, and I can't do it again. If it really *is* the no-win scenario...if I let the proxy stand, can I trust you? Can you do it, Leonard? If it comes down to it, can you let me go---*help* me go?"

Chris lost count of the machine's beeps as he waited, watching Leonard's gaze grow vague with thoughts turned inward. He knew he was taking the coward's way out---might have already, if he'd gotten access to a phaser before the moment when Jim's life was in danger.

Eventually, Leonard gave a slow nod. Took a deep breath. "You know what I did for my dad."

"Yes." Chris was sorry to add to Leonard's burdens, but he needed Leonard on his side for this. It was the only way he could fight through his own fears to give Leonard the trust *he* needed.

"Then you know I understand what you're sayin'. Shit, Chris---" Leonard ran his free hand through his hair. "Toward the end, I felt guilty for not lettin' him go earlier."

Leonard nodded again. "So I'll make you the same deal I did him: *If* and when the time comes, I'll do what's needed to bring you to a peaceful end. But until that moment, you do anything and everything to try to find a way to stay in the land of the livin'. With me."

"Deal." Chris shifted their grip to a handshake.

"But you know this is all pointless, 'cause it's gonna be fine." Leonard looked startled at his own words. "Can you believe it? Years I've been workin' out the worst-case scenario in my head, and *now* I turn into some kinda starry-eyed optimist."

With a snort and a smile, Chris put his trust in Leonard and decided to let the future take care of itself.


	11. Chapter 11

An hour later...

Leonard managed to make it to the washroom before he threw up. He spat the last of the bile in his mouth into the toilet before flushing. Started at a cool cloth pressing against the back of his neck.

"Easy." Christine pressed a small cup into his hand, moved the cloth to wipe his forehead. Her free arm wrapped around his shoulders, helping him straighten and guiding him to a chair in Sickbay's washroom.

Leonard took the cloth and wiped at his lips before sipping the recovery drink Christine had given him. He grimaced at the taste, but swished it around his mouth before swallowing. "Thanks."

Christine nodded, leaned against the wall. "Have you finished planning the surgery?"

Leonard set the cup and cloth on the sink. "Fuck, Christine. How'm I gonna do this?"

He lifted his hands to her, showed her the fine tremors vibrating his fingers. "The cellular-level scans...there's so *much* damage. One wrong move and---all of the robo-assist drones were destroyed, nobody else is qualified. Chris is right---I'm gonna kill him. Or worse."

Christine frowned as she laid fingertips against Leonard's brow. "Are you ill?"

"I'm fuckin' scared out of my mind!" Leonard buried his face in his hands. "It'll be all my fault. I'm gonna fail him, don't you get it?"

"That seems to be a premature conclusion."

Leonard's head jerked up to blink at Commander Spock. He cleared his throat. "What?"

Spock glided in, nodded Christine out of the room. She pressed encouragement into Leonard's shoulder as she passed.

Leonard couldn't figure out what the hell the Vulcan was doing here. Didn't the poor bastard have a mother and a planet to mourn?

"I repeat: It is a premature conclusion that you will fail Captain Pike." Spock stepped closer, hands clasped behind his back. "Your medical and surgical credentials are without compare."

"Not today," Leonard muttered. "Not with him."

"I disagree." Spock tilted his head as he gazed down at Leonard. "I have found that some humans tend to overdramatize stressful situations."

"Overdramatize?" Leonard shot to his feet. "How much more dramatic d'you think it can get? I'm holding Chris's goddamned *life* in my hands!"

"Precisely." Something passed through dark eyes. "He still has his life---you still have a chance to save him. You will endeavor to do so."

"Easy to say." He thrust his hands into Spock's face. "See this? I'm goddamned useless!"

Spock peered at his fingers. "While I am not qualified to diagnose, Doctor, would it not be logical to suggest you are experiencing a psychosomatic stress response?"

Leonard snatched his hands back, clenched his fists. His lip lifted into a snarl. "You tellin' me my shakes are all in my goddamned head?"

Spock's reply was delivered with teeth-grittingly annoying calm. "Is there a reason to believe they are not?"

Leonard just grunted.

The Vulcan behaved as if Leonard had agreed. "Precisely. You will require an uninterrupted power supply as well as a sterile operating theater. As much of Sickbay has been rendered unusable, Mr. Scott and I are arranging sterile field generators, battery backups, and inertial dampeners to be employed to ensure that optimal conditions for Captain Pike's surgery are maintained."

Spock paused. "As I understand it, you suffered from acute aviaphobia?"

Leonard nodded, brows drawing together.

"Whatever means you employ to deal with that condition can likely be applied to combat the effect of stressors in these circumstances. Your emotional upset has perhaps caused you to overlook that remedy." Spock offered a single nod. "I will leave you to it, Doctor. Keep me apprised of Captain Pike's condition."

Leonard sank back down. Of course, now that the hobgoblin had pointed out the obvious, Leonard could find out if the level-down technique would work.

It had to. There was no other option.

"Doctor..." Spock had stopped in the doorway to look back. "When I first heard that Captain Pike had selected you as a mate, I asked him why he would make such an illogical choice."

Leonard didn't have time to bristle as Spock continued.

"He attempted to explain to me the 'rightness' of your bonding. I did not understand him at the time...now I do." Spock's brown eyes were softer than any Vulcan's should be. "May you both have opportunity to continue in this illogical---but essential---pairing."

***************  
***************

An hour later...

Leonard feared any smile he tried would be more of a sickly grin. He rested a hand against Chris's jaw, stroked a thumb along his cheek. "You're gettin' some stubble, there."

Chris flicked his eyes up at Leonard. Lifted an eyebrow. "Haven't had a chance to take care of it...been busy."

Bizarrely, he and Chris had somehow switched roles. Chris was now the epitome of calm confidence, while Leonard now understood all too keenly just how precariously Chris's life---and more---hung in the balance.

"Yeah." He took a breath. "Chris---"

"It'll be OK, Leonard. I know you'll take care of me." Chris's hand pressed warm against the back of Leonard's.

Leonard's breath caught at the memory of the first time---the last time he'd heard those words.

He'd been tryin' to grow a backbone and do the dirty deed with Chris. His lover had been so fucking *patient* with lettin' Leonard figure out what he wanted and when. But like a virgin in one of those old novels, in Leonard's own mind he'd turned that last kind of sex into some kinda Rubicon that he just couldn't cross.

So they'd been stuck at third base for damned near forever---'least it felt that way to Leonard. He'd been in Chris's shower tryin' to finally work up his nerve. When he stepped out, he stopped short.

Chris was standing naked in front of the sink, a dollop of gel in his hand. Likely about to put skin-soother on his face after a shave. He smiled at Leonard in the mirror, lifted eyebrow an invitation or a challenge.

Leonard drifted forward like he was bein' reeled in step by step. Pressed himself to Chris's back and wrapped his arms around. His hands automatically spread to play in the hair that decorated Chris's pecs, sifting down to the coarser curls at his lover's groin.

"Feels nice," Chris murmured. He must've noticed Leonard's cock filling, 'cause he gave a lazy roll of his hips that made Leonard's eyes cross. "Maybe we should do something about that."

"Um, what did you have in mind?" Leonard lifted cautious eyes to their reflections.

"Well, one obvious possibility comes to mind." Chris grinned as he reached back and found Leonard's cock by feel, coating it in the cool and slippery gel. Then he grasped Leonard's right hand by the wrist and smeared the rest on Leonard's fingers.

Leonard swallowed, desire and uncertainty doin' a back-and-forth in his brain. "You sure about this?"

"Yeah." Chris let Leonard take some of his weight, brushed the back of his head against Leonard's jaw and throat. "It'll be OK, Leonard. I know you'll take care of me."

And Leonard made sure he did. Coaxed Chris's body into opening for his fingers. Watched Chris's face during that first push into heat and tightness like Leonard had never experienced before.

Tenderness gave way to passion as glide turned into plunge turned into slam and Leonard lost himself in the drive for release. But he kept his eyes on Chris, on the way Chris braced hands on the sink and shoved back---the way Chris welcomed each thrust.

How when Leonard finally found the presence of mind to reach for his lover's cock, Chris moaned Leonard's name and came hard into Leonard's hand.

Back in the shower after they'd gained back their breath, Leonard kissed Chris, ran his hands all over the strong body he was still learning as he cleansed his lover's skin. It was the first time since the deaths of his father and daughter that Leonard truly believed there was a joy in his life that could help ease his past sorrows.

With a jolt Leonard came back to this very different moment, shuddered at the thought of ripping into his lover. A necessary violence to try to save Chris's life, body, mind---and his own future. "Count on it."

He waited until the anesthesia had taken hold, then pressed a last kiss to Chris's brow. Wiped away the single tear that he'd dripped onto Chris's cheek.

***************  
***************

Eighteen hours later...

Chris roused to the murmur of voices somewhere above him. He heard "Should we move him?" "That appears to be a most inefficient position for sleeping." "Wore himself out---did rounds after the surgery. Then came in here and collapsed."

He attempted to lift eyelids that seemed to be gummed shut. More than his eyelids were heavy. He felt like every single part of him had been encased in duraplast.

Besides the beep of machinery and smell of disinfectant, Chris became aware of a regular breath. Not his own---though the oxygen being pumped through his nose made him terribly thirsty. No, it sounded off to his left. And seemed to be in time with a tickle on his collarbone.

Felt the wrench as his eyelids popped open. A blink and glance to the side revealed a mop of unruly brown hair at the edge of his pillow.

"Welcome back, sir." One of Leonard's friends---Christine---gave him a soft smile. She glanced up at the display above his bed before returning her gaze to his. "Can I get you anything?"

"Water," he croaked.

"Too soon for that---but I can get you an ice chip or two." As she passed the head of his bed, she leaned over and gently prodded Leonard.

She offered Chris a rueful smile. "I promised I'd wake him the moment you came to."

Leonard woke as he usually did, one second between asleep and alert. Wide eyes scanned the area, frowned at Jim and Spock hovering, then came to rest on Chris's face. "Hey there."

"Hey yourself." Chris flicked a glance toward the men he'd left in charge of Enterprise when he made what he thought would be the last trip of his life.

Spock, thankfully, took the hint. "We will wait outside to learn your prognosis. If you authorize Doctor McCoy to share it."

Jim's protests were brief enough that Chris thought maybe the two had found a way to do more than just tolerate each other's existence.

But he didn't spare them more than a moment's thought. "Leonard..."

Chris tried to keep calm as Leonard went through standard post-op procedures. The machines finally stopped whirring and Leonard was simply staring at his screen. "What's the verdict?"

Leonard rubbed his chin, frowned at the screen. Ran it again. But finally he nodded and looked up. "We managed to get all of the toxins out---all of the slug, too."

His slow smile warmed Chris's heart. Even rekindled hope for a happier ending than he'd been bracing for. "And?"

"And it looks like the cloned cells and regenerated tissue are stable and integrated." Leonard lifted a hand like he was trying to calm things down. "Now there will be a significant recovery period---we gave you a lot of new nerve cells that need to figure out what the heck they're supposed to do. But I think you'll be able to make a full recovery."

That was---that was---that was more than Chris dared to hope for. His breath shuddered as his vision grew misty. He would have a chance at a future with Leonard. One where he could stand beside him on whatever path life brought them to.

Leonard wasn't the only one blinking hard. Chris swallowed. "Thank you, Leonard. Love you."

When Leonard reached out trembling fingers, Chris turned his face into Leonard's hand. Then with an effort that seemed to wring every drop of strength, he lifted his own hand to wrap around Leonard's. Even as he felt himself drifting off again, he didn't let go.


	12. Chapter 12

A month later...

Chris growled as he typed his reply to yet another well-wisher. He'd stopped responding in comm or voice mail after he realized the gritting of his teeth was pretty darn obvious as he "Thanked you so much for your concern."

He knew he'd been through a trauma. Knew people---well, at least a few of them---were genuinely interested in *him* and not in one of the "key players in the Narada Incident".

But after four solid weeks of never-ending attention---clamoring newscasters, goddamned groupies, even a media agent or two---he had just about had it.

Not to mention the fawning by Starfleet folks themselves. He was the only actual captain to survive that first encounter with Nero. With the Federation riding high on Earth's salvation, the higher-ups were glossing over the catastrophic failure at Vulcan.

Oh, they'd accepted his recommendations for adding more security protocols---including locking the defense net codes for anyone who left the planet. But they'd already given their stamp of approval to Chris's actions above Vulcan's skies.

He didn't know what he could've done differently. But he felt as though *someone* should be held accountable for the failure to save all of the good men and women of Starfleet and Vulcan who lost their lives so tragically. Or he wished that at least the brass wouldn't treat his actually coming back alive like some goddamned victory.

"You're looking well, Chris." Admiral Barnett's presence filled the room per usual. But something about the line of his shoulders, the fixed nature of his smile made Chris's hackles rise.

He watched as Barnett lowered himself into one of the visitor's chairs. Glad that this meeting---whatever it entailed---was occurring in his campus office, rather than his personal one.

Made him feel less like an invalid, even if he was still in the chair for a good part of the day.

"So, I'm here to discuss your future---and Starfleet's future." Barnett rubbed his hands together. "First off, I'm told your debrief went extremely well and that you've cleared your preliminary psych review."

Chris nodded warily but didn't reply.

Barnett shifted in his seat. "That's excellent. We'll need you to get up to speed right away. Of course, as an admiral you'll have some leeway in choosing your projects---"

"Excuse me?" Chris was glad he had control of his jaw. "What are you talking about?"

"You mean the promotion?" Barnett shrugged. "It goes without saying that your sacrifices for the good of the Federation are appreciated. And, of course, you've earned a place among Starfleet's elite---"

"Bullshit." Felt good to say it, admit it. Chris wondered if this was the rush Leonard got when he let loose.

Barnett's brows rose. "Excuse me?"

"It's bullshit---all of it." Chris's hand shot out in a quick gesture. "The pats on the back, the pretty gold stars. It's all just a bunch of glitter thrown on top of a pile of crap."

Barnett stood, confusion quickly shifting to anger. "You're out of line, Pike."

Chris also pushed himself to his feet, bracing himself on the desk. For the first time, anger was the reason for his trembling. "With all due respect, sir, you have only one question to answer here. Does Starfleet still trust me with a ship? If yes, then tell me which one and when to launch. If no, then you can ground me, court-martial me, or put me out to pasture."

He leaned forward on his fist, determination in every single word. "But one thing is certain: I go out a captain. Because there is no way in hell I'm letting you fucking *reward* me for surviving a catastrophe that cost so many lives."

Maybe it was facing his deepest fear and surviving it. Maybe it was that he finally realized there was more to him than duty and Starfleet---or even the stars.

It no longer mattered so much if he spent his life gazing at the stars or living among them. Only that he would live that life on his own terms. Now he just needed to know if Starfleet could accept them.

Barnett blinked at him for a few moments. Then he slowly sat, gave a small smile and nod. "Very well, *captain*. I guess we'd better talk."

***************  
***************

Chris managed to get himself out of his chair and onto his and Leonard's favorite park bench without too much of a struggle. And fortunately early enough that he avoided any lectures about overdoing it.

He waved as Leonard came into view. Leonard eyed the chair, eyed Chris, then shrugged and plopped into a clear space, maneuvering onto his back and laying his head in Chris's lap.

Chris blinked down at him. "Comfy?"

"Not quite." Leonard picked up one of Chris's hands and placed it on his own head, sighing when Chris automatically started stroking. "That's better."

Figuring a few minutes' delay wouldn't do any harm, Chris indulged himself studying Leonard's face. He could see the worry lines starting to ease with his slow and steady recovery.

The physical was the easiest, of course. But Chris was making progress on the rest. He was seeing a therapist recommended by Leonard's own counselor---another one with Starfleet clearance.

He had a ways to go yet and wasn't sure where the road would lead, but he knew he would eventually be able to regain a sense of who he truly was, captain and man.

The question now was how lonely that trip would be. "I have news."

"Oh?" Leonard glanced up, picked up Chris's free wrist and twined his fingers with Chris's, resting their joined hands on his chest.

"I take it you haven't seen any news vids recently?" Chris could almost guarantee it, given Leonard's current state of equanimity.

Leonard snorted. "Yeah, like I wanna hear some empty talking heads prattle on for the five-thousandth time 'bout how awesome Jim is---or hear *Jim* declare it to the goddamned galaxy."

Chris hmphed. "Well, the original plan for our famous friend was that he would be bumped up to Lieutenant Commander and ship out as second officer---likely on Enterprise after a new captain was named."

Leonard gripped Chris's hand tighter in a show of sympathy, but Chris realized he didn't need it.

Strange how easy it was to say---to acknowledge that he would likely never again command the flagship he'd spent so many years watching come to life in the Riverside shipyards.

Leonard quirked an eyebrow at him. "So what bold and brilliant course of action have the Starfleet higher-ups decided on instead?"

Chris shook his head, still unable to believe it. "Jim's no longer gonna be Enterprise's second officer---he's gonna be the captain."

"What?" Leonard sat up and swiveled around. "You can't be serious."

A shrug accompanied Chris's answer. "One of the news outlets quoted an 'unnamed Starfleet source'. Of course the story spread to the far corners of the Federation at Warp 10. Not to mention there was a certain party lobbying for the same thing behind doors."

"So they're just gonna hand over a starship to *Jim*?" Leonard collapsed against the bench. "I can't believe it."

"You'd better, because it's happening. Upside is with all the vid and holo ops Jim's been on, recruiters' offices are filled with applications for new cadets who think *they're* gonna be in the big chair by age 25, too." Chris sobered. "Starfleet needs the bodies---and the goodwill of the Federation to replace all of the ships we lost at Vulcan."

Leonard absorbed that for a moment. "Huh. Guess I'll have to send the kid some congratulations."

"You have a decision to make, as well." Chris took a breath, straightened his shoulders. He knew this moment would come sooner or later---no way Jim Kirk would cool his heels on Earth for however long it took for Chris to get back to the stars.

This moment reminded him of the first day of his summer vacation each year, waiting to see if his grandmother's tuxedo tom would show. Would acknowledge him. Somehow he couldn't relax until he caught a glimpse of those green eyes peering at him. Nothing felt right until the cat had come close again to renew their bond.

And he remembered the wrench he felt that first year the cat didn't show. How the loss lingered.

He felt his stomach knot at the likelihood his future would not be all he hoped for, after all. "Under the circumstances, Starfleet is reuniting the 'hero' bridge crew of the Enterprise, keeping them in the posts they assumed for the Narada mission. Spock's the only one holding out."

Chris paused. Couldn't help reaching for Leonard's hand again. Tried not to clutch too tightly. "You are also considered one of the 'Enterprise Seven.' You'll be offered the CMO post."

"Oh." Leonard's brow furrowed. "I figured I'd be Senior Med Officer under somebody else---as Phyll keeps pointing out, most days my people skills leave a lot to be desired."

Chris managed a smile. "I'm sure the press release will say it's all part of your charm."

He looked down at their twined hands, then focused on Leonard's eyes. "Leonard, I know how much Jim means to you."

Had to take another breath to get the rest out. "I know how responsible you feel for him. If you---if you think you need to follow him to Enterprise, I'll respect your decision. We'll find a way to make it work. It's your choice."

Leonard freed himself and crossed his arms. "So you'd just let me go gallivantin' across the galaxy without a peep of protest?"

"It's not what I want, for damn sure." Chris ran a hand through his hair. "But I need to know I've done all I can to make sure that you won't regret being with me. If that means I have to let you go...at least for a while, then I'll live with it."

He shrugged. "I'll have to."

Leonard leaned forward and gripped Chris's shoulders. Actually shook him a little. "Right this moment I haven't a clue what I should do, but one thing I *am* sure of: I will never regret loving you."

Chris believed it, but that didn't make it any easier to watch Leonard walk away.

***************  
***************

Later that same afternoon...

"You sure about this?" Phyll was eyeing Leonard with the kind of skepticism she usually reserved for first-year interns' diagnoses.

"Yeah---and no. But I think it's what needs to be done." Leonard squirmed in his seat a little. He had to ask. "Will you take care of him for me?"

Phyll sighed. "I'm not you, Leonard. There's no way I'll be able to take your place---"

"I'm not askin' you to. Just...make sure he knows he's not alone." Leonard couldn't really hope for more than that.

"You know I will. For you, if not for him. But you still owe me big time." Phyll tossed a PADD his way. "Starting with the inventory."

Leonard glared at her. It didn't do a lick of good.

***************  
***************

A few days later...

Leonard was being watched. The prickle of his neck, the tension in his back, told him that someone had eyes specifically on him.

He paused, fighting the urge to dash across the campus to Chris's quarters. A voice sounded behind him. "Hello, old friend."

Leonard turned and scrutinized the man. Make that Vulcan---bowl cut, traditional robes, and all. Leonard had seen enough of them on Enterprise.

This one was at least as old as Spock's father---maybe more than 100, if he had to take a guess. "You weren't on Enterprise, and I never met you here at the Academy, so frankly you're not my friend, old or otherwise. I don't know you from Adam."

The Vulcan came another half-step forward. "I believe Jim has mentioned me. He and I met on Delta Vega. My name is...Spock."

"Oh, so *you're* the one." Leonard glowered at the sneaky bastard. "Do you have any idea the trouble you've stirred up? Jim's delusions of grandeur have got him thinkin' he's ready to be a goddamned Starfleet captain!"

"He and the Enterprise are destined," This old Spock said with disturbing certainty.

"Maybe so, but here? Now?" Leonard blew out a breath. "Vulcan still exists in your reality, whatever, right?"

"Affirmative." The gray head tilted.

"So what did *your* Jim Kirk do to get the fleet flagship and captain's stripes at the ripe old age of 25?" Leonard really wanted to know. 'Cause in *this* universe, it didn't make a lick of sense.

The question seemed to throw things off. Spock took a while before he finally answered. "He was---he was the youngest Starfleet captain, but at the age of 29, almost thirty."

"That's a difference of what, four years? Five?" Leonard wanted to drag the Vulcan in front of the Starfleet brass and expose his stupidity to the universe. "Makes a big difference, don't ya think? Jim's not the same man you knew---and he likely won't be facin' the same situations your Kirk did."

"Perhaps, but he will have the finest Starfleet crew to provide him with the counsel he needs." Spock stepped forward. "That is why you must be Jim Kirk's CMO. That is *your* destiny."

Leonard should've known the pointy-eared bastard had a reason for this little chat. "You're right about one thing: Enterprise is gonna need the best crew possible for that situation. But I'm not it."

The Vulcan regarded him with something like disbelief in his dark eyes. "You don't believe you can be an effective aid to Jim's command?"

"Might have been, if we hadn't come up together through the Academy. Or if I'd been strong enough to say 'No' and make it stick..." Leonard sighed a truth he'd come to recognize, but was still reluctant to admit. "It'd never work. I'd be no good to him as a CMO---Jim only listens to me when I agree with him."

The old Vulcan's gray brows drew together. "You do not have Jim's respect?"

"Not the way I need to. Jim's too used to ignoring my opinion---and worse, assuming I'll bail him out of any jam he gets himself into. That's no way for a crew to operate." Leonard shrugged. "Besides, I have a prior commitment."

"So I've heard." One last look preceded a slow, graceful nod. "Under these circumstances, I do not have any counter to your logic. Thank you for your time, Doctor...and your perspective."

The Vulcan did that strange finger thing. "Live long and prosper."

Leonard nodded an acknowledgement of the gesture, but knew better than to try to reciprocate it. With a last look, he went on his way.

Wondered what Chris would make of this strange encounter.

***************  
***************

"Jim." Leonard moved out of the doorway and let Jim storm inside.

The kid---*Jim*---was still in black. Likely not yet allowed to wear the command gold or captain's stripes he'd already found a way into.

Leonard was grateful Chris was out for a physical therapy session and lunch with Phyll. Based on Jim's mulish expression as he prowled the apartment, there looked to be quite a blowout coming.

Jim stopped short and shoved into Leonard's space. "Why'd you do it, Bones?"

"Point of fact, I didn't do anything." Truth to tell, he didn't have to. Just letting the domestic partnership stand as written was enough to keep Leonard grounded until Chris got the details of his new command.

The Starfleet brass were making noises about short-term training missions to give the lower-year cadets some training for the ships being fast-tracked to completion to rebuild the fleet.

"You know what I mean." Jim whirled away and stalked to one of the windows, stared out onto the campus. "Enterprise is going out again with her command crew intact---"

"So Spock signed on?" News to him.

"Just a matter of time." Jim waved the question away. "But there's a new CMO for Sickbay---and it isn't you."

"Phyll Boyce." Fortunately for Phyll, Selena was gung-ho about the new posting. She and Scotty had hit it off and Selena was already planning a full overhaul of Enterprise's weapons and shield systems.

Leonard continued, "It's not exactly the original command crew, is it?" They'd lost their CMO, chief engineer---and captain. "It's not even the command crew the brass had planned on when we all got back."

He actually agreed with Chris, this time around. Jim was in no way ready for command of a starship. "As far as I've been told, you were slated to be a few steps shy of Enterprise's captain. Until now. Not a bad deal you made for yourself, considerin' you were a cadet about to be tossed out of the Academy."

Jim looked over at that. "How'd you know---"

"Chris told me about the news leak." Leonard shook his head. "What'd you do, Jim? Manipulate some pretty little newscaster to spread the rumor that the 'victorious' Enterprise was goin' out under the 'miracle' captain who saved Earth?"

Jim huffed. "Worked, didn't it?"

"Sure, as a publicity stunt." Leonard wanted to walk over and shake some sense into Jim. But that had never worked---at least, not for him. "Jim, you really think you're ready to be captain of Enterprise? That you can be the leader that your crew needs? Just plop yourself in the big chair and sail off?"

"Yeah, I do. When the time for a tough call came, *I* made it. And I made the right one. There's no goin' back for me, only forward. I know I can do it---and I thought you did, too." Jim pointed a challenge straight at Leonard. "Hell, Bones, *you're* the one who put me on Enterprise in the first place."

"You wanna know why I did it?" Leonard paused, debated whether this was a truth whose time had come. "I did it because you don't bench a player on the day of the big game---not when he thinks the game is all he has."

That rocked Jim for a moment, blinking. But then he gave that smirk he always did when he figured he had the upper hand. "Yeah? Well from where I stand, you've pretty much proved that it *is* all I have."

"For god's sake---" Leonard stopped. Pulled in a deep breath, calmed himself down on a walk to Jim's side. "You wanna view it that way, it's your choice."

He heaved a sigh. "Truth is, Jim, this is the only way I can think of to fix a mess *I* made. I was tryin' to do what I thought was best, but I didn't do right by you. I didn't let you take the hard knocks that might've knocked some sense into you."

When he looked at Jim, he still saw the busted-up kid he'd met on the shuttle. A few years and now a lifetime ago. "I love you like a brother, but even if you were my blood kin I wouldn't come with you. I can't."

"This is a big fuckin' deal, Bones. A huge, scary one." Jim moved closer, blue eyes laser-focused. "Is it so shocking that I want my friend out there with me?"

Leonard leaned on the windowsill, suddenly weary. "Don't you get it, Jim? It's not about what you want, it's about what you *need*---what Enterprise needs. And that's someone who's got a goddamned clue what's goin' on out there."

He ran a hand through his hair, clasped the back of his neck. "I may not be able to be your wingman anymore, but I'm not leavin' you to fly solo. Phyll's been in the black practically longer than you've been alive. If you actually listen to her, she'll probably save your ass and your command."

Must've made sense to Jim, too, the way his shoulders slumped. "I understand what you're sayin', Bones. Maybe you're right. But I can't picture bein' out there without you. It seems like it was always you and me from the start." 

Jim shrugged. "I figured it always would be. That we'd be livin' the dream out there."

"Bein' in Starfleet is *your* dream, Jim. And while I don't always agree with your methods, I've never tried to stop you from finding it." Leonard spread his hands. "But to be a healer, to build a home with someone I love...bein' with Chris---whether here or out there---is *my* dream."

Jim stared at him for a long moment. Then he straightened up with a sigh. "So I've got to give you away before there's even a wedding?"

Leonard rested careful fingertips on Jim's shoulder. "Yeah, I reckon so."

Jim surprised him with a hug. Leonard held him close a moment, cupping Jim's skull the way he did Joanna's, years gone.

Then, with a last smile, Leonard drew back and let him go.

***************  
***************

One year after Chris and Leonard's first meeting...

Chris paused before the bar, listening to Leonard's low laugh. Chantelle's smile in response widened as she noticed his approach.

"So you have something to celebrate, I hear?" Her smoky voice beckoned him closer as much as the graceful curve of her hand.

He saw Leonard turn, returned the slow smile that transformed his lover's face.

"Hey," Leonard said softly.

"Hey yourself." Chris stepped into the vee of Leonard's legs, letting his hands run up strong thighs. "Happy Anniversary."

"'Been quite a year." Leonard reached up one hand to slide through Chris's hair.

Chris leaned down, met Leonard's lips in a kiss that couldn't begin to convey all that he was feeling. All that he hoped for. Leonard practically purred when Chris finally pulled back.

With a last press to those tempting lips, Chris settled onto his own stool. "You already order?"

"Mmm-hmmm." Leonard didn't have to explain further. Chantelle approached with two glasses and a familiar bottle of whiskey. "It's on me this time."

"Oh no, gentlemen." Chantelle's smile was soft as she poured. "It's on the house."

As the lady accepted her thanks and disappeared in a breath of perfume, Chris lifted his glass and turned to Leonard. The man he loved and hoped to spend the rest of his life with.

The man Chris knew meant more to him than any ship, or even the stars themselves. "To going forward, together."

Leonard smiled and clinked glasses. "Together."

THE END

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are welcomed with great joy and constructive criticism is treasured as a rare gift.


End file.
